The Case of the Burning Body
by Nora Burnham
Summary: Based loosely on real events in Temple, Texas, Perry and Della become embroiled in both an old and new murder while on a trip to Texas.
1. Chapter 1

The Case of the Burning Body-Chapter 1

Temple, Texas September 1958:

Randall White sat in his study, oblivious to all the party preparations going on  
inside the house and on the grounds of the farm. His morning coffee sat  
untouched on a tray along with a plate of eggs and bacon which had also lost  
their appeal. His attention instead was focused on the editorial section of the  
Temple Daily Telegram, specifically a letter to the editor.

Dear Sir:

I write this letter with the on-going hope that justice may finally be served  
and a blight on our good community's name forever washed away. In June of 1937,  
my father, a poor tenant farmer named Samuel George Carter, was wrongfully  
accused of the murder of Lucas Rabroker, a prominent local landowner from whom  
he rented his farmland. Although you are new to town, I know many who will  
remember the case well. Witnesses claimed my father and Mr. Rabroker had a  
terrible disagreement which resulted in Mr. Rabroker telling my father to pack  
up and clear off his land. Later that evening, Mr. Rabroker, his wife Cleta, and  
their daughter, Lauralynn were all murdered in the family home. The only  
survivor, Rabroker's 5 year old son, Adam, claimed to see my father running from  
the scene of the crime as he hid behind some long drapes and a piano in the  
front parlor room. Based upon the child's story, my father was hunted down,  
beaten, dragged through the streets of Temple while tied to the back of a  
pick-up, and then lynched in the town square where his body was set afire.

While nothing can bring my father back, I write this letter today to urge the  
entire State of Texas, including those in our negro communities who are sick and  
tired of the injustices put upon them simply because of the color of their skin,  
to stand up as one and protest the temporary appointment of Randall White to  
the position of Attorney General which is being vacated by the early retirement  
of Averitt Ames. How can we expect Mr. White to fairly represent us? How can we  
expect him to fight for our interests? How can we expect him to uphold the  
letter of the law when he has supported vigilante justice in the past? That's  
right… Randall White led one of the lynch mobs who hunted down my father.  
Randall White helped strip his clothes and tie him to the back of the truck that  
paraded him up and down the city streets. Randall White stood by while my mother  
screamed and begged for mercy for my father…while I stood by as a child and wept  
as he was strung up by a rope and set afire while hanging from that tree.  
Shouldn't someone as important as the Attorney General be capable of upholding  
something as simple as "innocent until proven guilty?" He denied my father a  
fair trial by his peers and there's no reason to believe he won't continue to  
trample the rights of citizens after he takes office. I urge you all to write  
the governor and ask his reconsideration in this matter.

Sincerely,

Samuel George Carter Jr.

"Damn it to hell!" Randall shouted, angrily tossing the newspaper across the  
table. He grabbed for his coffee cup with such force that liquid spilled over  
the sides and splattered all over hit shirt. "Raylynn! Where are you?" he  
shouted while trying to wipe up the spilled coffee and clean his shirt with a  
linen napkin placed on the tray.

"Just a moment, darling!" he heard her call back from somewhere in the house.

"Well hurry up, will ya? And bring some more napkins!" he yelled back. He  
continued to blot his shirt, but his efforts were futile. There was no saving it  
nor his tie or trousers. He would have to change everything before heading into  
town and then down to the airport in Austin.

"Good grief Randall! Napkins? That's what we have servants for! What's all the  
hullabaloo about anyway?" she said, entering the room with an aggravated  
expression and carrying a handful of similar linen napkins. "Oh dear…" she  
commented upon further inspection and quickly moved to help him in his clean up  
efforts.

Raylynn had been married to Randall for ten years and was also ten years his  
junior. Tall, tan, and thin with coifed ash blonde hair and crystal blue eyes,  
she glided rather than walked into the dining room to help him, every bit of her  
country club raising and charm school lessons evident as she did so. She wore a  
pale blue skirt, sleeveless white blouse, pearl necklace, pearl earrings, and  
pale blue high heeled pumps. She was, in every way, the stereotypical Texas  
belle. A college graduate who'd made no secret of her intent to get her M.R.S.,  
she'd met Randall through a friend of a friend and, after a whirlwind romance,  
they'd married and set up house on a large farm next to the family homestead he  
held in trust for Adam Rabroker. After Adam's family had been murdered and with  
no one else to care for him, Randall had petitioned the court and been granted  
custody of the young boy whom he raised alone. No one thought oddly of this…a  
twenty year old college student taking on the responsibility for raising a  
child. After all, Randall was engaged to Adam's older sister, Lauralynn, at the  
time of the murders and naturally felt a duty to him. Neither could stand to  
live in the main house, the location of the murders, so after Randall completed  
college, he bought the farm adjacent to the Rabroker homestead and they lived  
there instead. Adam was already sixteen years old by the time Raylynn entered  
the picture.

Raylynn dabbed up spilled coffee from the tray while Randall continued to curse  
under his breath. Her eyes stole a glance at the discarded newspaper. "I see you  
read the editorial section," she said carefully.

"I most certainly did!" he shouted. "What in the hell does he want from me? My  
hide? I've apologized to him and his mother. I've told them I was wrong to tell  
the others what Adam saw that night…that I was caught up in the heat of the  
moment…that I was crazy with grief, but I did not put my hands on Sam Sr. I did  
not do any of those things that boy just accused me of. My God… I bought them a  
house. I paid for Sam Jr.'s education. Why can't they just bury the hatchet and  
move on?" Randall began loosening his tie.

"Apparently, the only place he wants to bury the hatchet, my dear, is in your  
back. Adam and I have already taken a dozen phone calls this morning from  
various reporters around the state, all wanting a response from you. Sam Jr.  
sent a copy of that letter to every major newspaper in the state. What I can't  
understand is why the Telegram ran it without contacting you first." She piled  
the soiled napkins on the tray, then reached out to take his discarded tie.

"I'll tell you why," he stated vehemently. "It's that damn Yankee editor. He  
doesn't like me and doesn't understand how we do things down here. I oughtta go  
over there and hair lip him…see how he likes that."

"The only thing you're going to do," Raylynn said as she dropped the tie on the  
tray with the napkins and stepped closer to him, "is go upstairs, change your  
clothes, and head to the office to check on payroll. It's Friday and we got a  
lot of people down there counting on their paychecks being on time. Then, you'll  
head down to Austin." She patted his arm and kissed his cheek. "Please darling,  
just go upstairs and get changed. By the time you get back from Austin, Adam  
will have already done quite a bit of damage control. Why he's on his way over  
to Sam Jr.'s right not to talk about this letter."

Randall flashed a wild look at her. "Adam's going over to talk to Sam Jr.? What  
the hell good is that gonna do? The damage has already been done."

"You know yourself why? Do I have to remind you Sam Jr.'s momma worked as a  
house maid for the Rabrokers and that she brought him with her to work every  
day? Why, you know as well as I do, Sam Jr. and Adam grew up playing together.  
You used to take both those boys fishing."

"That's what makes it worse, Raylynn. I did care for Sam Jr. He was a good boy.  
You think I'm proud of what happened to his father…proud that my crazy rantings  
about what Adam said he witnessed got out to the public and that I allowed  
myself to get worked into this grief stricken frenzy and stand by while he was  
killed? Even if he was guilty. Damn it…the proof was right there in the ashes,  
Raylynn. He was guilty. He killed Lauralynn…." Randall's voice trailed off.  
Raylynn's tanned face lost its color and she stared at the floor as he looked  
away from her. She loved him more than her own life and felt he did love her in  
his own way. She knew he kept a picture of him and Lauralynn in his dresser  
drawer. She'd caught him staring at it on more than one occasion, but had never  
confronted him on it.

"Don't forget," she stated quietly as she moved to the table, picked up the  
tray, and headed out of the room. "Make sure the payroll is taken care of before  
you leave for Austin."

"Perry and Della are scheduled to land at 2 P.M. We should be back in plenty of  
time for them to rest and change for the dinner party. Are their rooms ready?"  
he asked absentmindedly. He had that far off look in his eyes that told Raylynn  
he was headed to a place far back in time, hidden away in his own mind.

"Yes…everything's ready," Raylynn replied, turning to look at him one last time  
before exiting the room, but he didn't hear her. As she bumped the door with her  
bottom to push it closed, she let out a long sigh and her eyes filled with  
tears. She'd spent her entire married life competing with the ghost of another  
woman and sometimes the strain was simply too much to bare. Slowly, she walked  
down the hallway towards the kitchen. She passed their butler, Kipsey, who said,  
"You shouldn't be doing that, Ms. Raylynn. I'll take it."

Handing the tray off to Kipsey, Raylynn smiled a silent thank you. She wiped  
away her tears as he turned away and then she called after him, "Oh Kipsey?"

"Yes m'am, Ms. Raylynn?"

"Have Mr. White's car brought around to the front. He'll be heading into town  
soon."

"Yes m'am," Kipsey replied, turning down the hallway towards the kitchen.

Raylynn followed after him, continuing through the kitchen and out a set of  
French doors which opened onto a patio and large garden. As she resumed her  
duties of overseeing the setup for the following evening's dinner party and  
outside dance, she made a mental note to have Adam call the office when he  
returned and confirm the payroll had been completed on time.

****************************************************

"What in the Sam Hill hell were you thinking sending that letter, Sam?"

Twenty-six year old Adam Rabroker paced back and forth across the kitchen of his  
childhood friend, a cigarette carelessly dangling between his fingers. He took a  
long drag and then flitted the ashes towards an ashtray, but did so with such  
force the hot ashes bounced back up and hit his fingers. He was so angry he  
didn't even feel the burn.

"Randall has no business being Attorney General. It's just like my letter said.  
How can we have an Attorney General who can't even hold up the letter of the law  
himself? This isn't a new opinion of mine, Adam. You've known I hated him for  
years over what he did to my father. Why the sudden anger and surprise?" Samuel  
Carter Jr. sat at his kitchen table and watched as his childhood friend fought  
an internal struggle between his loyalty to him, his loyalty to the man who'd  
been like a father to him, and his guilt over his own role in the lynching death  
of Samuel's father.

"You've had years to write a letter to the papers. You could've sent it when  
Randall was running for City Council or even when he ran for District Attorney,  
but no…you waited until now…and all those false accusations…he could sue you for  
slander… all you've done is stir up a whole lot of things people want to  
forget…it'll probably make the national circuit and…."

"I don't want to forget it! My mother and I saw him help tie my father to that  
truck!" Sam Jr. shouted at him. He stood and rounded the table to square off  
with Adam. "I wasn't old enough for anyone to listen to me when Randall ran for  
those other offices. I'm old enough now…"

"And what the hell about me!?" Adam shouted back at him. "We're friends! Did you  
ever think about what this has done to me? What I'm gonna go through when  
out-of- state reporters start nosing around, asking questions, and, believe me,  
they will descend on this place like a starved man on a Christmas ham! What  
about me, Sam? Isn't it partially my fault? I can't help what I saw that night  
and it was your father running away from the house!"

"But you didn't actually see my father kill anyone, did you?" asked Sam Jr. as  
if the wind had been knocked out of him. Adam shook his head `no.'

"You were hiding behind the drapes near the piano. You didn't see my father  
actually in the house." Adam felt a wave of nausea overtake him. It happened  
whenever memories of his parents' and sister's murders flooded his mind and he  
sat down abruptly at the kitchen table. "I hid because Lauralynn pulled me out  
of bed and screamed for me to run away just before she went to try and help my  
parents. I didn't know where to go or what to do," Adam whimpered, tears choking  
his voice. "So, I hid. It was the same place I was hiding when our fathers had  
their argument earlier in the day."

"You never saw my father in the house after that?"

"Well, no, but he was the only one there fleeing the scene. And your momma  
admitted he returned to the house that night with the intention of speaking to  
my father after supper. I'm only telling you what we've gone over a million  
times before. We keep talking and talking in circles and it never gets us  
anywhere. Our fathers argued earlier in the day. I overheard them from behind  
the curtains and piano. Your father told mine he'd be sorry for ruining him. The  
next thing I know, all hell is breaking loose. Lauralynn's pulling me out of bed  
and telling me to run. I heard gunshots and my mother screaming… then another  
gunshot and I heard Lauralynn scream... I heard fighting and furniture crashing.  
I heard this thud, thud, thud over and over as the killer pulled Lauralynn's  
body down the stairs. She was crying and making this choking sound. She screamed  
out, "No" one final time and then everything went quiet…not one sound… even the  
crickets who always got into the house weren't making their usual racket. I  
heard the front door open, heard footsteps run across the porch … down the  
wooden steps. I forced myself to look out the window and I saw you're father  
running away."

Adam placed his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. Sam Jr.  
pulled up a chair next to him. "How the hell did we stay friends through all of  
this," he stated more than asked as he leaned back in the chair and looked up at  
the ceiling. Adam turned his head and looked at him. Sam glanced at him and it  
was like he could see straight into his soul. "Wait a second. I've heard you  
tell that story a thousand times, but this time it was different."

"What do you mean?" Adam asked.

"No…no…you said, `the killer pulled Lauralynn's body down the stairs.' Every  
other time you've told that story, you've said `I heard your father pull  
Lauralynn down the stairs.'"

Adam looked blankly at him, trying to take in the meaning behind Sam Jr.'s  
revelation.

"You don't really think my father killed your family, do you? That's it, isn't  
it?" Adam started to speak, but Sam Jr. stopped him.

"That's why we've stayed friends. I never realized it until now. God, how could  
I have been so blind? Don't you see? I never blamed you or turned my back on you  
because you were a scared little boy who did nothin' but tell the truth. You  
couldn't help that Randall and all those other men took your story and twisted  
it into a conviction. But, I've always wondered why you didn't turn your back on  
me … seein' as how everyone believed my father guilty." Adam felt his chest  
tightening. The nausea would not release its grip on him.

Sam Jr. continued. "You didn't turn your back on me all these years because you  
don't really believe my father committed the murders. Admit it, Adam! Who do  
think killed them?"

"Stop it, just stop it!" Adam shouted. "I don't know who killed them! All I saw  
was your father running away from the house. Everything else is like a dream. I  
don't know what's real anymore. It's been too long." Adam started for the back  
screen door.

"I don't believe you!" Sam Jr. grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. "Tell  
me what you know Adam … have you remembered something else about that night?"

"Let me go Sam. I only came here to talk about the letters you sent out to the  
papers and to tell you to drop this campaign against Randall, not to drudge up  
ancient history. It's not just his career you're hurting, but mine too. I don't  
care for him anymore than you do but he raised me when there was no one else to  
do it and now he's going to help me open a practice and jump into politics! You  
ruin him and you ruin me too."

"Ancient history?! This is our history, Adam! There's no burying it! There's no  
peace! You talk about going around in circles?! Well, guess what?! One circle  
just broke! No! You're not going anywhere, not until you tell me what you know  
or what you think you know!" Sam Jr. now held Adam by the shoulders and was  
staring into his eyes. For a split second, he thought he saw a trace of  
apprehension staring back at him.

"I know something too," he whispered, "Something neither me nor momma have ever  
told anyone before out of plain fear, but I'm not scared anymore Adam and I will  
continue to go to the papers and tell my story until the real killer or killers  
are brought to justice. I will clear my father's name. Help me, please. Let's  
just put what we know altogether and see if we come to the same conclusion we've  
come to so many times before or see if the circle is truly broken."

"NO," Adam hissed at him. He brought his right fist across and landed it  
squarely in the side of Sam Jr.'s face, effectively breaking himself free of the  
man's grasp.

"Lord Almighty, what is going on in here!?" Sam Jr.'s mother, Lottie, dropped  
her basket of clean laundry on the back steps, pulled the screen door open, and  
pushed past Adam as she made her way to her son.

"Go on home now, you hear Adam? Just go on home and cool off. There ain't gonna  
be none of this fighting goin' on in my house. You boys are too old for this  
kind of nonsense." She helped Sam Jr. off the floor, grabbed a clean cup towel,  
and held it to his bleeding nose.

"You stay the hell away from me, Sam," Adam growled, "and no more letters to the  
newspaper. I'd better not here another word come out of your mouth against  
Randall or you'll be sorry!" With that, Adam stormed out the screen door.

*******************************************

Diana Leigh White walked out of Julianne's Beauty Shop shortly before noon. She  
was starving, having skipped breakfast that morning in order to make her 8 A.M.  
appointment, but the results were well worth the time and money spent as well as  
her hunger pains. Julianne had trimmed, highlighted, and deeply conditioned her  
hair. She'd then set it in rollers so Diana's hair emerged from the dryer with  
the perfect amount of body. While under the dryer, Diana received both a  
manicure and a pedicure. Finally, Julianne studied the emerald green dress Diana  
planned to wear that evening at her aunt's and uncle's dinner party. She matched  
Diana's nails, toes, and facial makeup so that it perfectly complimented her  
outfit. She also put together a beauty pallet of lipstick, lip liner, rouge, eye  
shadow, and eye liner which complimented her formal attire for the next evening  
as well.

The only child of Dr. Delmar White and his wife, Lucinda, Diana was as spoiled  
as she was beautiful. She had long, Lana Turner blonde hair which cascaded down  
her back, green eyes, and, at 5'9, a figure that made grown men trip over their  
own feet when she walked by. She'd graduated from Baylor University with a  
degree in classical languages and spent much of her time traveling and partying  
with friends on the West Coast. Although she was never hard pressed for the  
company of men, few were capable of holding her attention for more than a couple  
of months before she grew bored with them. She had no greater admirer or ardent  
pursuer than Adam Rabroker, the orphaned young man raised by her father's  
brother, Randall. Adam had been bewitched by Diana since she'd emerged from her  
awkward pre-pubescent years and flourished into a teenage beauty queen.  
Convinced they were destined to be together, Adam courted her with a ferocity  
that both excited and scared her. Still, he was only two years her senior and,  
while she enjoyed his attentions and their playful yet combative banter, she  
felt she was destined for much more. She fancied herself married to an older,  
wealthier, more established professional man who could lavish his attentions  
upon her as if she were his special little pet and support her in the lifestyle  
her own father had accustomed her to. It was a man like this which brought her  
to Julianne's Beauty Shop so early on Friday morning. He'd caught her eye at a  
bar association dinner in the spring when she was visiting friends in Los  
Angeles. When she'd found out he and her uncle were old friends…that he was  
flying out from California to support her uncle's appointment as State Attorney  
General as well as her uncle's plans to run for his own term as Attorney General  
in the next election, she felt as if fate were on her side. Perry Mason would be  
in Texas approximately 5 days. Diana was utterly confidant he would be hers  
before he returned home.

Taking out her scarf and sunglasses, she walked down the sidewalk towards her  
red Porsche Speedster, a happy little tune of "You Belong to Me" playing quietly  
in her head … her dress slung carefully over her arm. She hardly noticed the  
Chevy Impala convertible which slowed as it rounded the corner and inched along  
the street following her.

*****************************************  
Adam Rabroker had driven around for over an hour after his confrontation with  
Sam Jr. before heading back to the home of Randall and Raylynn White. He was  
tired and hoped to grab a bite to eat, maybe even a little shut eye before their  
guests began arriving from around the country. As a freshly graduated lawyer, he  
was particularly interested in the arrival of Perry Mason. Perry and Randall  
became friends after working together ten years prior on a multi-million dollar  
class action lawsuit. It was Perry who'd introduced Randall to a private  
detective named Paul Drake who just happened to be dating Raylynn, the beautiful  
daughter of one of the partners in the law firm which employed Perry. When the  
lawsuit was over six months later, Randall invited Perry out to the farm for a  
fishing vacation. Perry obliged and he and Adam hit it off immediately. Paul and  
Raylynn had parted ways by this time. A month after Perry's visit, Randall  
eloped with Raylynn and sent Adam to stay with Perry in Los Angeles while they  
honeymooned in Europe. Adam held the greatest respect for Perry and it was his  
influence, not Randall's, that led him to study the law.

Unfortunately, his plans for a nap and snack were quelled as soon as he pulled  
up in front of the house. Raylynn was outside directing the men delivering the  
tents and awnings towards the back of the residence. When she saw Adam, she  
hurried over, explained her encounter with Randall from earlier, and asked if  
he'd drive to the office and make sure that payroll had been met. Adam agreed.  
Twenty minutes later, it was just as Raylynn had feared. Randall had gone to the  
office, returned some phone calls, called the airlines to make sure Perry's  
flight was on time, and then left for Austin without signing the payroll checks  
clearly left on his desk. Adam flourished a pen and quickly signed Randall's  
name to the checks. He dropped them off with the secretary then headed towards  
the door with lunch on his mind.

"Now, Mr. Rabroker…you know he doesn't like it when you do that," the secretary  
admonished when she saw the forged signatures on the checks.

"You wanna get paid on time or not?" Adam growled at her.

"Well, yes I do, but this is gonna cause just an awful fight," she replied  
wearily.

"I'll take care of it, Myra," Adam stated as he closed the office door behind  
him. "It's my money anyway," he muttered under his breath.

Rounding the corner from the law office, the voluptuous figure of a woman caught  
his attention. He knew only one with a saunter like that. She was just the kind  
of medicine he needed after a hellish morning. He slowed his convertible to a  
crawl and waited for her to take notice. When it was clear she wouldn't, he let  
out a long whistle and called out to her.

"Say angel face…could I interest you in a little lunch date?"

Diana stopped and looked at him with bemused eyes. "Not with you," she replied.  
She hung her dress and purse on a nearby parking meter so she could wrap her  
scarf over her hair and tie it at the chin. She smiled sweetly, freed the  
parking meter, and resumed her walk towards her car. Adam took his foot off the  
brake and inched after her.

"Say thanks baby!" he called after her. "I sure needed that!"

She stopped just short of her car and looked at him again. "Needed what?" she  
asked innocently, putting on her sunshades and digging in her purse for her  
keys.

"Why that shot of cold air you just blew my way. It sure felt good on such a hot  
day."

"Well there's more where that came from, you know." She unlocked the car, hung  
her dress in the front seat, and started to climb in when he spoke again.

"That's a hot little number. You wearing that when I pick you up tonight?"

"Pick me up tonight?" She said with great amusement. She shut the door to her  
car and walked over to him. "I don't recall me agreeing to go with you to the  
dinner party tonight. I think driving around with the top down too long has  
overheated your brain and you're not thinking straight." She leaned across and  
placed her hand on his forehead. "Oh yes, the sun has definitely gone to your  
head…why you're plum feverish."

Adam threw the car in park, grabbed her by the wrist, and pulled her over the  
side of the car. "It's not the sun making me feverish, baby." She screamed  
loudly, but his lips stifled the sound as he pulled her into a forceful embrace.  
A car horn honked angrily behind them. Adam pulled away and looked in the  
rearview mirror. Diana brought her right hand up…car keys in tow… and slapped  
him across his face. The keys cut into his cheek and he let out an obscenity.  
She jumped out of his car and rushed to hers, but he threw his car into drive,  
and pulled in sideways into the spot in front of her, effectively blocking her  
ability to pull out and make an escape. Adam jumped out of his car, not even  
bothering to shut the door. He pulled her out of her car and grabbed her by the  
shoulders.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Diana? What do ya mean hitting me with those  
damn keys?" He shook her and she tried to push away from him.

"What the hell do you mean pulling me into your car like that? You don't own me  
Adam Rabroker," she shouted. Seeing the look of fear mixed with indignation on  
her face and feeling the blood running down his cheek, he immediately released  
her, pulled out a handkerchief and applied pressure to the wound.

"I wouldn't take you now if you tore off your clothes and begged me naked in the  
street," he spat at her as he turned to walk away.

"Naked in the street?" she shouted. She followed after him, but was caught off  
guard when he turned, threw the handkerchief to the ground, and wrapped his arms  
around her, pushing her down on the hood of his car. There he held her for a  
brief minute before kissing her again. She didn't know what burned her skin  
more…the heat of his lips on hers or the burning metal of the hood as it  
penetrated through her blouse.

"Hey you two! Cut that out and get this car out of street! You can't park half  
in and half out like that!" Adam looked up to see a police officer staring  
menacingly at them. He released Diana, pulled her off the hood, and half  
pushed/half walked her quickly to her car door.

"Sorry sir," he called over to the officer. Looking down at Diana, he said, "but  
you know what they say…the course of true love never runs smoothly."

"True love?!" Diana shrieked as Adam walked back to his car and winked at the  
officer who rolled his eyes in return. "I'm not in love with you Adam Rabroker.  
I wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire."

"Well you certainly paint a ladylike picture of yourself, don't you?" he replied  
sarcastically.

"How dare you!" She screamed loudly. She reached down to the ground, grabbed a  
handful of small rocks and threw them at him as he tried to get into his car.

"Are you crazy?" Adam yelled as he jumped out, surveying any possible damage to  
his car.

"Lady will you please just get in your car and leave before I have to haul you  
both in for disturbing the peace," the officer hollered, wiping away the sweat  
from under his cap. By this time a small crowd of eight to 10 people had now  
stopped to witness the scene.

"I'll gladly leave officer as soon as you instruct Mr. Rabroker here to get this  
old jalopy out of my way!" she shouted.

"Old Jalopy?! There better not be a scratch on this car Diana or so help me…."

"So help you what?! You stay away from me, you understand? Or a few rocks being  
whizzed by your head will be the least of your problems!" Diana hopped in her  
car and started the engine.

"Watch who you're threatening there little girl!" Adam yelled, but the officer  
took him by the arm and pushed him towards his own car door.

"Just cool off and get out here," the officer instructed.

Adam slammed the car door shut, threw the car in drive, backed up hastily, and  
then peeled out into the street.

Back in Los Angeles, Perry waited patiently for the stewardess to announce  
boarding for first class passengers. He was dressed comfortably in khaki slacks,  
a hunter green golf shirt tucked in neatly, dark brown leather belt and matching  
leather loafers. However, he was waiting impatiently for someone else and had  
been looking at his watch every five minutes for the past half hour as he waited  
for her arrival. `Where in the devil could she be?' he thought, looking around  
at the various passengers waiting with him to board the flight to Austin, Texas.  
Then, he caught sight of her walking towards him and his worry melted away. How  
he loved seeing her out of her office attire. His eyes carefully took in the way  
her black pants and teal blue tunic style top clung to every curve of her  
figure. She carried a large print floral, oversized silk scarf across her arm.  
Its lavender, teal blue, black, and white pattern added a touch of elegance to  
her casual dress as did her sandals which were covered in jewels the same colors  
as the scarf. Her hair, which was a little longer than she usually wore it,  
almost touched her shoulders. As she reached him and smiled an apology, she  
tucked her hair behind her right ear and he noticed she wore the diamond  
earrings and matching bracelet he'd bought her for her birthday five months  
earlier.

"Let me guess," he said quietly, trying to regain some of his earlier impatience  
and feign anger with her. Della Street looked up into his eyes and he found  
himself smiling at her instead of chastising her tardiness. "We're going to be  
gone five days. You don't know what you'll be in the mood to wear so I'm  
guessing you had to lug several pieces of luggage into the cab, out of the cab,  
and then to the check in counter. Is that why you're late?"

"Not several … five," she replied with a slightly embarrassed smile.

"Five pieces of luggage, Della? You're kidding, right? What on earth could you  
have possibly packed?" He'd never understand the packing habits of women. He  
packed two pieces of luggage for the trip-one for toiletries and the other for  
clothing.

"Well one is empty," she responded, "but you were right with what you said  
before. I don't know what I'll be in the mood to wear each day. Add in shoes,  
handbags, and other accessories and, before you know it, I'd packed four bags."

"And the fifth is empty because…." He drawled out questioningly.

"I've never been to Texas before and will undoubtedly want to do some  
shopping…you just never know what I'll find, Perry." Her eyes were alight with  
excitement as she spoke.

He laughed aloud. "Undoubtedly," he repeated. He reached over and brushed his  
fingers across her cheek, but a blinding flash caught them both off-guard.

"Hey there, Mr. Mason! Ya goin' on a trip?"

It was Jimmy, the reporter from the local newspaper. He snapped another picture  
of Perry and Della, then hit Perry with a fresh round of questions.

"Say, the wall there says this plane's bound for Austin, Texas. You got a case  
there, Mr. Mason? Is that why Miss Street's with ya? Is it a murder case?"

At that moment, the stewardess came over the speaker and announced first class  
passengers could begin boarding. Taking Della by the elbow, Perry smiled affably  
at Jimmy and said, "No comment, no comment, and…no comment. Have a nice day,  
Jimmy." Della smiled pleasantly at Jimmy as Perry guided her towards the  
stewardess, handed over their boarding passes, and then steered her down the  
tunnel towards the plane. "I've got to hand it to him, Della."

"How so?" she replied, a smile still gracing her face.

"Taking that picture just as I touched your face. You know how that's gonna look  
when it hits the papers tomorrow." Perry's affable smile was gone, replaced  
instead with one of annoyance.

"Oh Perry, we've had pictures like that in the papers plenty of times…." Perry  
interrupted her. He released her elbow and slipped his arm around her waist.

"I know that," he whispered into her ear, "but I had to sleep alone last night …  
so we could arrive at the airport separately…so no attention would be drawn to  
our leaving on a trip together and…."

"And what?" she asked softly, suddenly understanding his irritation and  
attempting to soothe him by allowing him to pull her closer as they approached  
the plane's door.

"And you missed me?" She smiled up at him. They stopped walking and were now  
waiting their turn to enter the plane.

"Yes," he replied and then added, under his breath, "among other things."

Della let out a soft, throaty laugh, her cheeks blushing slightly. She stepped  
through the door ahead of him, stole a glance over her shoulder, and cooed, so  
only he could hear, "Chin up Counselor…I'll remedy those `other things' for you  
after the dinner party tonight. What do you say?"

Perry leaned in closely to her ear and whispered, "I say to hell with the dinner  
party."


	2. Chapter 2

The flight time from Los Angeles to Austin was four and a half hours. Perry  
tired of reading his law journal within the first hour and looked over at Della.  
The newspaper she planned to read lay unopened in her lap. She was staring  
peacefully out the window of the plane. Perry lifted the arm separating their  
seats and scooted closer to her. She let out a contented sigh and turned her  
body sideways so her back rested against him. He draped his right arm over her  
shoulder and she intertwined her fingers with his, pulling his hand to her mouth  
for a kiss. They sat that way … holding hands and staring out the window for a  
long while …until the stewardess interrupted their solitude by asking if they  
needed anything to drink. Neither did.

Alone once more, Perry stretched out and reclined his seat back as far as it  
would go. He nodded his head in the direction of Della's seat and gave her a  
wink. She smiled and reclined back too. She then settled her head on Perry's  
shoulder, tucked her arm under his and closed her eyes. He kissed the top of her  
head and pulled the newspaper from her lap. He was surprised to find it was not  
a copy of the Los Angeles Times, but a copy of the Dallas Morning News.

"You bought a Texas newspaper?" he inquired amusedly.

"Hmm, hmm," she responded without opening her eyes. "I wanted to read up on  
Texas politics and other important events in the state before the parties the  
next two days…you know, for conversational purposes."

Perry smiled and opened the first section. "That's a great idea, Miss Street.  
Mind if I do the same?"

"Knock yourself out," she replied drowsily, snuggling closer to him.

Ten minutes later, she was almost asleep when she felt his body suddenly jerk.  
Her head rolled off his shoulder as he sat abruptly forward and muttered, "Oh  
no, no, no… this must be pure slander." The newspaper made a rattling sound as  
he folded it in half.

Della looked at him and saw concern etching itself into the lines of his face.  
He was completely absorbed in the newspaper and obviously not pleased with what  
he was reading.

"Perry, what is it?" She asked, leaning over to get a look at the paper too.

He handed it to her and replied, "Read the editorial…the first letter to the  
editor at the top." Della took the paper. Within seconds, her eyes widened and a  
gasp escaped her mouth. "Perry? Has Randall ever told you anything about this?"

"Sort of," Perry replied coldly as he looked her in the eyes.

"What do you mean by sort of?" she asked him, setting the paper down on her lap.  
He picked it up, read over the letter again and then turned his attention back  
to Della who was waiting for an answer.

"Perry, what are we walking into here? You know Randall and his family…I don't.  
Why… you two worked together years before I came on the scene. This doesn't  
sound anything like the Randall you described to me," she paused and placed her  
hand on his arm, "nor are you the type of man who'd befriend and protect someone  
involved in a crime like this? Perry, please tell me there's no truth to this  
man's letter?" Della's expression showed genuine concern as she moved her hand  
to his and looked into his eyes.

Perry gently pulled his hand from hers, rolled up all the sections of the  
newspaper and shoved them into the pocket of the seat in front of him. He then  
turned back to her and took her hands in his, bringing them up to his lips where  
he dropped a soft kiss on each of them.

"No darling … I would never intentionally befriend, support, or protect any man  
who participated in a miscarriage of justice like this …nor who had a direct  
hand in the killing of another man. I only know what Randall's told me and it  
doesn't match up at all with what's in this letter. Let's get that drink now and  
I'll tell you all about it, okay?"

Della relaxed somewhat and nodded her head affirmatively.

Perry motioned for the stewardess and ordered him and Della two cranberry  
cocktails with extra ice. He popped his seat up from its reclining position.  
Della followed his lead. They faced each other, Della sitting with her legs  
criss-crossed like a school girl. Perry quietly began his story.

"One Saturday night, several months into the lawsuit, Randall called me from a  
bar. He'd been drinking heavily and wondered if I could come pick him up. Of  
course, I agreed. When I got there, it was clear he'd really laid one on, if you  
know what I mean. He couldn't walk and was mumbling something about a girl named  
Lauralynn. I took him back to his place and then slept on the fold out couch to  
make sure nothing happened to him. The next day, he had a deuce of a  
hangover…didn't even pull himself out of bed until mid-afternoon. Boy was he  
surprised, and embarrassed, to see me there. Seems he didn't even remember  
phoning me."

"Wow," Della replied with raised eyebrows, "he really was sloshed."

"Oh yeah. He asked why I was there and I told him. He apologized profusely. When  
I asked if the drinking binge had anything to do with a girl named Lauralynn,  
his face went as pale as a ghost. "What did I say about her?" he asked and his  
hands started shaking. I poured him a cup of coffee, helped him get a sip, and  
told him nothing…that he just muttered her name over and over. That's when he  
spilled it." Perry took a sip of his juice.

"Spilled what?" Della asked anxiously.

"Everything," Perry answered in a serious tone. He reclined his seat back and  
scooted closer to Della. He tapped his shoulder with his finger. She smiled  
wearily and resumed her position from earlier, head nestled on his shoulder, her  
arm tucked under his. In a hushed tone, Perry delved deeply into his memory and  
recounted the story of Randall White …

******************************************************

Driving down the long stretch of Interstate 35 between Temple and Austin, there  
was little to look at except rolling farmlands and cattle. Randall looked  
forward to seeing his old friend, Perry Mason. He was also anxious to finally  
meet his secretary, Della Street. She always seemed so charming when he called  
the office and rumor had it there was more to their relationship than Perry  
would admit. At any rate, he wouldn't pry. Perry's personal life was none of his  
business. He was just pleased Perry had agreed to fly in and support, not only  
his appointment as Texas Attorney General, but also to support his announcement  
he would seek his own election to that post in the spring. Still, this business  
with Sam Jr.'s letter troubled him. The more he tried to put it out of his mind,  
the more he found himself unable to keep from slipping back to that hot summer  
day twenty-one years earlier when his life changed forever. It seemed like  
yesterday. As Perry Mason recounted his story to Della Street some 25,000 feet  
in the air, Randall White replayed the same events on the ground as he sped  
towards Austin.

SUBTITLE TO CHAPTER: PERRY RECALLS/RANDALL REMEMBERS

The sweltering Texas heat had beaten down upon the small town of Temple the  
entire day. Although harsh in the downtown area and quiet neighborhood streets,  
the heat was particularly brutal in the corn and cotton fields of the many farms  
surrounding the outskirts of town. Workers there found themselves taking  
frequent water breaks and sat resting under any shade they could find. In a  
two-story office at the corner of Main and French, twenty year old Randall White  
sat behind a desk in his father's law office and tried to concentrate on some 30  
pages of assigned reading from the Texas penal code, but it was just too hot.  
The fans in the office did little to cool him and perspiration ran down his neck  
and chest, moistening his undershirt and turning it into a sticky mess.

A pre-law student at the University of Texas at Austin, Randall was home for  
the summer and had been put to work in his father's law office. Reading law  
books and memorizing the penal code had become a quick part of his so-called  
summer employment. He'd been offered a job as a page at the state capitol, but  
his father had nixed it. "It'll be good experience for you, son, to work in a  
real law office. Politics is full of nothing but crooks and cheats…not the kinda  
of rigmaroles I want any member of my family being around," his father had said  
when he'd mentioned the job and wanting to stay in Austin all summer. "Besides,  
I won't work you so hard that you can't find time to spend with Lauralynn…maybe  
make up with her… fix whatever it is you did that caused her to call off the  
engagement. That's a fine family. Her father's a good client and a good friend.  
This discord between you two is certainly putting a strain on everyone."

Lauralynn Rabroker was Randall's fiancé. They'd planned to marry once he  
graduated from UT. He was head over heels in love with her and had been since  
they were children. She lived on a 200 acre farm with her mother, father, and  
younger brother, Adam. She also attended classes, to become a school teacher,  
part-time at the University of Mary-Hardin Baylor in neighboring Belton,  
although Randall didn't understand why. She certainly wouldn't be working once  
they married. Furthermore, much to his chagrin, she had developed some definite  
opinions about the roles of men and women in society that he was sure were  
coming from a source other than what she was being taught on the small,  
all-women's Baptist campus. He recalled one night, this past April, after a  
drive out into the country and around the lake, he had been a little free with  
his attentions while they parked in the moonlight. After she rebuffed his  
advances as she had through so many years of dating, he jokingly asked her if  
some of her new fangled ideas about the roles of men and women could possibly  
play to his benefit in the arena of sexual relations. She became angry and  
demanded he take her home. After not speaking to him for an entire day, she  
reiterated they would not "do such a thing" until their wedding night and, if he  
didn't like it, then maybe he was engaged to the wrong girl. Randall apologized  
and then suggested moving up the wedding date as a possible solution to the  
problem. She became infuriated and threw her engagement ring at him as she  
stormed out of the parlor room. Five year old Adam had witnessed the entire  
episode and ran crying into Randall's arms. Randall loved young Adam like he was  
his own brother and the two often went fishing and hunting together. He assured  
Adam the fight between he and Lauralynn was only temporary and that all would  
end well. Randall made good on that promise a month later when he took Lauralynn  
for a romantic dinner at the Stagecoach Inn in Salado, about 20 miles away.  
After a stroll along the creek, he sat her beneath a shade tree, went down on  
bended knee, and professed his undying love for her. She'd cried and re-accepted  
the engagement ring, a large 2 carat emerald set in antique yellow gold and  
surrounded by tiny diamonds.

Although politics was his life's ambition, having her back made his leaving

the  
excitement of Austin behind for the summer a little more tolerable.  
Unfortunately, she became terribly angry with him less than two weeks later and  
their reconciliation was short-lived. She ignored his requests for dates,  
refused to have him over for dinner, and even refused to sit with him at church.  
The few times he managed to corner her alone, she burst into tears, screamed she  
didn't want to talk about it, and would run away.

On the afternoon of June 28th, he'd had enough. After sweating it out all  
morning in his father's law office with a copy of the Texas Penal Code, he  
decided to go to Lauralynn's house and demand she explain herself to him. They  
had another terrible fight which carried from the front porch of the house, down  
the cobblestone sidewalk, around the back of the house, and out towards the  
clothes lines, where freshly laundered sheets hung drying under the hot Texas  
sun. Her last words to him were, "Leave me alone. I never want to see you  
again!" She ran into the house through the back door.

As Randall stormed back to the front of the house, Samuel Carter Sr. had just  
been in a confrontation of his own with Lauralynn's father, Lucas Rabroker. He  
ran down the front porch as Lucas followed after him carrying a shotgun. He and  
Randall collided with each other. Randall fell to the ground, but Sam kept  
moving.

"I want you cleared out by the end of the week, Sam! You hear me?" Lucas called  
after him, staggering out onto the front porch and shaking his shotgun in the  
air. Sam's wife, Lottie,who worked as a house maid for the Rabrokers, heard the  
commotion and came running from the back of the house, with a basket of wet  
laundry in her arms. Seeing Lucas with the gun, she exclaimed, "Oh Lordy, Mr.  
Rabroker!" Sam Jr., who'd been in the barn playing with a litter of kittens,  
came running out at the sound of his mother's voice.

"You get out of here too, Lottie. You're fired. Take that boy with you." Lucas  
shook the gun in her direction. Seeing this, Sam Sr. rounded back and yelled,  
"Don't you threaten her!" Randall, who was shocked at the goings on, remained  
sprawled upon the ground until he saw Sam Sr. turn and make a bee line back  
towards Lucas. Lucas aimed his shotgun. Lottie screamed, "No!" and took off  
running towards Sam Sr. as did their young son. Randall jumped up from the  
ground and wrapped around Sam Sr. like a defensive player making the game saving  
tackle in the state championship. As he pushed Sam Sr. away from the house and  
towards his car, Lottie picked up Sam Jr. and followed.

Around 10 P.M. that same night, a man entered the Rabroker home, walked into  
Lucas's office, retrieved his shot gun, walked upstairs, and shot Lucas Rabroker  
as he lie in bed reading a book. A lamp was thrown across the room and screaming  
and shouting alerted the attention of Lauralynn Rabroker who ran to her  
brother's room, pulled him from bed, and instructed him to run away as far as he  
could from the house. Lauralynn then grabbed a small pistol from the drawer of a  
hall table and ran to her parents' bedroom. Not knowing what to do or where to  
go, five year old Adam hid in the parlor room behind some heavy curtains and a  
large piano that sat partially in front of a window. He heard more screams and  
gunshots. Then, he heard his sister crying and making this gurgling sound. Then  
he heard the thud, thud, thud of her body as she was dragged down the stairs. It  
was quiet for a couple of minutes except for a man's footsteps in the house.  
Adam remained hidden, daring not to move. Finally, he heard his sister cry out,  
"No!" There was this hitting/banging sound and then nothing. The man ran out the  
front door and down the front porch steps. Adam looked out the window and saw  
Samuel Carter Sr. stumbling and fleeing the scene.

Adam stayed behind the curtains all night. In the morning, when the cook arrived  
for work, she stumbled upon the aftermath of the murders and called the police.  
Adam was found huddled in a fetal position and taken to the local hospital.  
Grief-stricken Randall went to the hospital to be with him and listened as Adam  
told his story to the police. Randall went home and told the story to his father  
who, in turn, called up his friends and fellow members on the town council.  
Within hours, the story had spread like wildfire. The police went to arrest Sam  
Sr., but were too late. Three different posses of angry men had fanned out  
across the town and county to hunt him down. He was found hiding in a hunting  
stand. He was hauled back to town where he was beaten severely, stripped of his  
clothing, and then tied to the back of a truck. The truck dragged him throughout  
the city streets as well as through the colored part of town. He was still alive  
when they strung him from a tree in the town square, doused him with gasoline,  
and set fire to him as a crowd of on-lookers cheered and his wife and son wept.  
Later, Randall stood staring at what remained of Sam Sr. As the man hung almost  
unrecognizably from the tree, Randall saw a faint glistening of gold in the  
ashes on the ground. He broke a switch off a nearby bush and poked around in the  
ashes. It was there he discovered a dirty, blackened antique gold ring, with a  
two carat emerald surrounded by diamonds … Lauralynn's engagement ring. Since it  
was on her finger during their last argument, Randall surmised Sam Sr. must have  
taken it from her after killing her. This damning evidence coupled with Adam's  
story left everyone believing the real murderer had been caught and justice  
served. With no other family to speak of, Randall petitioned the Court and was  
granted full custody of young Adam. He was also appointed to manage Adam's  
inheritance until the boy reached twenty-five years of age.

**********************************************************

When Perry finished telling Della the story as it was told to him by Randall,  
her head was no longer resting comfortably on his shoulder. Instead, she was  
sitting straight up and looking at him in wide eyed disbelief.

"Perry…that is the most awful story I've ever been told. Poor Randall … poor  
Adam … that poor little boy… he must have been positively terrified."

"Randall told me the final autopsy showed both parents died from multiple gun  
shot wounds from a shot gun, but the shot gun was never recovered," Perry said  
as he drank the last of his juice.

"And what about Lauralynn?"

"That's the worst part. Adam heard her dragged downstairs … heard the crying and  
this strange gurgling sound, but she was alive for a while. Randall told me she  
died of multiple stab wounds to the neck and chest inflicted by a kitchen  
butcher knife."

Della's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh Perry…those noises Adam heard was the killer  
getting the knife and then stabbing his sister to death."

"That's how it seems," Perry said solemnly.

"But still, those men had no right to pass judgment on Samuel Carter and then  
execute him. We have laws in this country which are designed to protect us from  
false accusations. I mean the notion of "innocent until proven guilty" is one of  
the great cornerstones of our legal system."

"I agree with you 100% Della and Randall felt a significant amount of guilt over  
what happened to Sam Sr. He told me he felt if he'd just kept his mouth shut,  
Sam Sr. would have been given a proper trial and then executed mercifully. Also,  
his wife and son would have been spared the pain and humiliation of the public  
lynching. Randall told me he was present for the lynching, but he was too grief  
stricken and in shock to try and stop it so I don't know what to make of this  
letter to the editor. After all, Sam Jr. was there too and we both know there  
are always two sides to every story."

"Mob mentality is really a scary thing, you know? I've read stories of the  
sweetest, most good natured people you could ever hope to find committing the  
most heinous crimes when riled up with a mob," Della said.

She sat for a long moment tapping her index finger over her lips as she stared  
off into space. Perry could see the wheels spinning in her brain. "Perry? What  
if Adam was mistaken? You've said a million times before eye witness testimony  
is faulty."

"Yes, I have. You and I have certainly worked enough cases where it has proven  
unreliable. What are you getting at?" he asked.

"The ring, Perry. Lauralynn's engagement ring. It was found in Sam's ashes?  
First of all, Randall told you Sam was stripped of his clothes, dragged through  
the streets, hung from a tree and set on fire. Right?"

"As I recall …yes," he responded with a look of keen interest.

"Well … where does a naked man hide a two carat emerald and diamond ring?"

"You have a keen mind, my dear. I asked Randall that question and he said he  
wondered the same thing... even wondered briefly if Sam Sr. had been set up, you  
know, a patsy. But, there was no one else that had a problem with Mr. Rabroker  
or his family. They were very loved and respected in the community. Randall  
surmised Sam Sr. must have taken the ring and then swallowed it in order to keep  
the lynch mob from finding the evidence when they surrounded the hunting stand."

"Okay, I guess that's plausible, but there's a problem with that explanation …  
actually two," she said as she crossed her arms and settled back into her seat.

"And that would be?" Perry asked with a soft smile.

"Well, he's been out hiding in a hunting stand all night and then manages to  
choke down a large ring? It's summer. Summers are hot in Texas and I've heard  
the temperatures go down very little at night. You're telling me he spent the  
night in this hunting stand … which you know must have been just stifling in the  
summer heat and then swallowed the ring? He was on the run from supposedly  
committing three murders and likely had no provisions such as food or water  
stashed in the stand. A large ring going down a dry throat sounds too painful.  
Why wouldn't he have just hidden it?"

"I don't know Detective Street," Perry chuckled. "What's the second thing?"

She rolled her eyes and continued. "Do you remember that crime scene  
investigation book I read last year?"

"You mean the one that scared you so badly you called me at home several nights  
in a row because you couldn't fall asleep?" His soft smile broadened into a wide  
grin.

She leaned her head back and laughed. "And you were annoyed with me the  
following mornings in court because I yawned so much through the proceedings?"

Perry laughed heartily. "Yes, I remember the yawning, Miss Street. I could have  
strangled Hamilton for letting you borrow such a book. I swore up and down he  
did it on purpose so he could get some kind of edge on me during the trial."

"Well, I wasn't amused when you asked him for his home phone number so I could  
call him when I was scared at night instead of pestering you." She raised an  
eyebrow and cut her eyes at him.

"Now, now…it was just a little joke." He smiled as he elbowed her in the side.  
"So what about this book you read?"

"Okay. The human body is made up mostly of water. Therefore, it is very  
difficult to set a murder victim on fire in the hopes of covering up a crime.  
The would be murderer would have to constantly fan or accelerate the burning  
process to make sure the body incinerated. According to this book, the human  
body requires extended exposure to 1400 degree heat and then burns in rapid  
cycles layer by layer. Heat dries out the skin…the dry skin burns. Heat dries  
out the muscles and fat and then they burn too until all that is left is the  
internal organs."

"Which then dry out and burn," Perry replied.

"That's right. Randall's own account of finding the ring in the ashes negates  
the theory Sam Sr. swallowed the ring because his body was still hanging from  
the tree when Randall found it. In all probability, the fire never reached that  
extreme and never made it to his stomach."

Perry's expression had changed from one of amusement to deep thought.

"Furthermore, even if the mob had kept dousing the body with gasoline so that it  
would continue to burn and likely at a much higher temperature than 1400 degrees, until

the fire made it all the way to the insides of his  
stomach, the ring would not have been found intact in the ashes. Gold melts at  
about 1900 degrees. The stones would have survived, but not the ring itself…not with the use of an accelerant. So,how did the ring end up in the ashes?"

"You know what temperature gold melts at?" He asked, utterly impressed by her  
apparent knowledge of the subject.

"Oh Perry, of course I know the temperature at which gold melts. I'm a woman  
after all … a woman who loves jewelry," she added when he gave her an amused  
`what does that have to do with anything' look.

"Of course," he stated in a mock authoritative tone that caused her to playfully  
slap his arm.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked.

Perry contemplated all Della had said and then reached over to take her hand in  
his. "Well, it has been ten years since Randall told me the story," he said,  
studying her fingers as they intertwined with his. "Maybe I have some of the  
facts mixed up. At any rate, it is quite a mystery and we are not traveling to  
Texas to take on a new murder mystery, my dear, so I suggest we put it out of  
mind and not mention we saw Carter's letter to the editor… not yet anyway. I  
have a feeling it will come up in conversation on its own before the end of  
tonight's party…"

"But Perry, what if …"

"What if it turns out Randall participated in the lynching and wasn't just a  
grief stricken bystander as he claims?" Perry asked.

"Yes," she replied with concern. "Surely you won't endorse him for Attorney  
General."

"Of course not. As soon as I got half way through telling you his story, I  
decided to reserve my endorsement. We'll go to the appointment dinner party  
tonight and then to the announcement party tomorrow night because he is my  
friend. I have to give him the benefit of the doubt for now. I'll talk with him  
in private tomorrow and let him know a public endorsement will have to wait  
until Carter's accusations are cleared up. I'm sure he'll understand, Della.  
I've never known him to be anything other than a good man."

Randall became so engrossed in the past…so lost in replaying the events leading  
up to Lauralynn's murder and Sam Sr.'s lynching that he nearly missed the exit  
that led to the Austin International Airport. He knew Sam Jr.'s letter to the  
editor would be the talk of the weekend festivities albeit not to his face and  
that he would have to face Sam Jr.'s accusations head on if he were to have any  
chance of being elected Attorney General in the spring. He recalled his earlier  
conversation with Raylynn … how she told him about Adam going out to Sam Jr.'s  
house to speak with him. That was the last thing he needed …more trouble with  
Sam Jr. Randall sighed. He hoped Adam had kept a cool head when he went out  
there, but given Adam's moodiness the past few months, it was doubtful. Why  
wouldn't the boy just tell him what was bothering him so he could help him?  
Randall turned into the airport and made his way towards pick ups and drop offs.  
Almost immediately, he saw Perry and a very attractive brunette standing on the  
curb near the first pick up lane. Randall smiled and waved out the window to  
them both. One thing was for sure…he was very happy to have his old friend here  
for support. It did his heart good to see him standing there and waving back at  
him. He wondered if Perry knew just how much this visit meant to him.

********************************************************


	3. Chapter 3

At promptly 6:20 P.M., Perry stepped out of his room and into the upstairs  
hallway of the home of Randall and Raylynn White. He was dressed in a black  
tuxedo and carried a crystal vase of white roses. A couple passed him on their  
way towards the staircase. The man smiled courteously and said "Good evening."  
Noting the roses, the woman gave Perry a warm smile and said, "Oh they're just  
lovely." Perry returned their pleasantries with a smile, a nod, and a "Good  
evening" of his own. He took a few steps and knocked on the door to Della's  
room.

"Just a moment!" he heard Della call out from the other side of the door.

Within seconds, the door opened and Perry smiled broadly, taking in the  
breathtaking vision in front of him. Della's hair was swept up loosely with  
numerous soft tendrils gracing her neck and framing her face. She wore a  
strapless black velvet cocktail dress with an overskirt that dramatically draped  
over her hips and cascaded in a fishtail down the back. Her ensemble was  
completed by black stiletto heels, a tear drop shaped diamond necklace and  
matching tear drop shaped diamond earrings that were just visible under the  
tendrils.

"Oh Perry!" she exclaimed when she saw the roses. She took them from him and he  
followed her into the room, shutting the door behind him.

"They're gorgeous! When did you have time to order them?" she asked happily as  
she cleared a space for them on a highboy dresser in the corner of the room.  
Looking over at the bathroom door, she added, "And why did you come around and  
knock on the bedroom door? The bathroom joins our two rooms together. You could  
have just come in that way," she said motioning in the direction of the bathroom  
door.

"Oh no, no, no, Miss Street … pick you up for a date through the bathroom door?  
With the roses in tow? I don't find that very romantic, do you?" He smiled  
devilishly then walked over and kissed her on the cheek. "As for how I procured  
said roses, that is my little secret. After all, I have to keep some mystery.  
You might get bored with me otherwise."

"Oh, I seriously doubt that will ever happen." Della laughed, turning to face  
the dresser and mirror. She dabbed a little perfume on her wrists and behind her  
ears. She looked past her reflection in the mirror and caught Perry's reflection  
in the glass as he watched her. She then took the perfume stopper and, without  
breaking eye contact with him, ran it slowly down her chest and into her  
cleavage. He stepped behind her, took her shoulders, and turned her to face him.  
He took in a small breath of air, bent his face and slowly blew the air across  
the wet line of perfume. As she sharply inhaled, he dropped a soft kiss on her  
collarbone and shoulder.

"Hmm…you're so soft," he murmured against her skin. "That long bath you took  
this afternoon really paid off." He finally brushed a delicate kiss across her  
lips. Craving a longer perhaps deeper kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck  
and tried to pull him closer.

He shook his head `no' and said, "We don't want to muss your beautiful lips when  
we're about to leave."

"I'll take my chances," she said seductively and brought her mouth back to his.  
After several long minutes, they broke apart. He glanced at the bed behind them  
and then looked into her eyes. She reached around him and took a tissue from the  
dresser. After blotting her lipstick from his mouth, she also cast a glance at  
the bed and asked teasingly, "Do you still say to hell with the dinner party?"

"You're bluffing," Perry replied with a twinkle in his eyes. He tightened his  
hold on her and started gently maneuvering her towards the bed. She started  
laughing and said, "Okay, okay…yes, I'm bluffing." She looked at the clock on  
the nightstand, "We're going to be late if we dAt promptly 6:20 P.M., Perry stepped out of his room and into the upstairs  
hallway of the home of Randall and Raylynn White. He was dressed in a black  
tuxedo and carried a crystal vase of white roses. A couple passed him on their  
way towards the staircase. The man smiled courteously and said "Good evening."  
Noting the roses, the woman gave Perry a warm smile and said, "Oh they're just  
lovely." Perry returned their pleasantries with a smile, a nod, and a "Good  
evening" of his own. He took a few steps and knocked on the door to Della's  
room.

"Just a moment!" he heard Della call out from the other side of the door.

Within seconds, the door opened and Perry smiled broadly, taking in the  
breathtaking vision in front of him. Della's hair was swept up loosely with  
numerous soft tendrils gracing her neck and framing her face. She wore a  
strapless black velvet cocktail dress with an overskirt that dramatically draped  
over her hips and cascaded in a fishtail down the back. Her ensemble was  
completed by black stiletto heels, a tear drop shaped diamond necklace and  
matching tear drop shaped diamond earrings that were just visible under the  
tendrils.

"Oh Perry!" she exclaimed when she saw the roses. She took them from him and he  
followed her into the room, shutting the door behind him.

"They're gorgeous! When did you have time to order them?" she asked happily as  
she cleared a space for them on a highboy dresser in the corner of the room.  
Looking over at the bathroom door, she added, "And why did you come around and  
knock on the bedroom door? The bathroom joins our two rooms together. You could  
have just come in that way," she said motioning in the direction of the bathroom  
door.

"Oh no, no, no, Miss Street … pick you up for a date through the bathroom door?  
With the roses in tow? I don't find that very romantic, do you?" He smiled  
devilishly then walked over and kissed her on the cheek. "As for how I procured  
said roses, that is my little secret. After all, I have to keep some mystery.  
You might get bored with me otherwise."

"Oh, I seriously doubt that will ever happen." Della laughed, turning to face  
the dresser and mirror. She dabbed a little perfume on her wrists and behind her  
ears. She looked past her reflection in the mirror and caught Perry's reflection  
in the glass as he watched her. She then took the perfume stopper and, without  
breaking eye contact with him, ran it slowly down her chest and into her  
cleavage. He stepped behind her, took her shoulders, and turned her to face him.  
He took in a small breath of air, bent his face and slowly blew the air across  
the wet line of perfume. As she sharply inhaled, he dropped a soft kiss on her  
collarbone and shoulder.

"Hmm…you're so soft," he murmured against her skin. "That long bath you took  
this afternoon really paid off." He finally brushed a delicate kiss across her  
lips. Craving a longer perhaps deeper kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck  
and tried to pull him closer.

He shook his head `no' and said, "We don't want to muss your beautiful lips when  
we're about to leave."

"I'll take my chances," she said seductively and brought her mouth back to his.  
After several long minutes, they broke apart. He glanced at the bed behind them  
and then looked into her eyes. She reached around him and took a tissue from the  
dresser. After blotting her lipstick from his mouth, she also cast a glance at  
the bed and asked teasingly, "Do you still say to hell with the dinner party?"

"You're bluffing," Perry replied with a twinkle in his eyes. He tightened his  
hold on her and started gently maneuvering her towards the bed. She started  
laughing and said, "Okay, okay…yes, I'm bluffing." She looked at the clock on  
the nightstand, "We're going to be late if we don't get going."

"They're serving cocktails from 6:30 P.M.-7:00 P.M. We have a little time…" He  
began kissing her neck and his hands traveled from her waist to her hips.

She pulled away and said, "Sorry darling, but there will be several reporters at  
this little shin-dig and I'd bet every one of them would notice if we were late.  
It wouldn't take much for them to figure out we have connecting rooms … their  
gossip columns would be picked up by the gossip columnists back home and then…"

"We'd be the topic of gossip?" Perry kept his smile contained, but his eyes gave  
away the joke.

Della laughed, "Very funny, counselor. You know I don't care about the pictures  
that show us at dinners or parties or even going places together like on this  
trip, but what goes on behind closed doors is our business, not theirs. I don't  
want to even open it up for conjecture."

"You don't have to explain it to me, Della. I understand." He kissed her cheek  
and led her towards the door. "By the way, how did Raylynn know to give us  
connecting rooms? I've never talked in depth with Randall about our  
relationship."

"Hold on just a second." Della stopped, picked up her handbag, and retrieved a  
compact. She then went to the dresser and picked up a small tube of lipstick.  
After re-applying it to her lips, she slipped both the compact and lipstick into  
Perry's jacket pocket. He looked at her expectantly.

"She asked me," she stated nonchalantly.

Perry looked genuinely surprised. "She asked you? You two don't even know each  
other. Why would she ask something as personal as that?"

"Oh Perry please…she called the office to speak with me about our travel  
arrangements, to get any food or drink preferences we may have and to tell me  
about the functions we'd be attending … the weather, and so forth …you know, so  
we'd know what to pack."

"And then she asked if we were sharing a bed?"

Della cut her eyes at him, raised her eyebrows, and then said his name in a tone  
that made him feel like a school boy who was about to be sent to the principal's  
office.

"We talked for about an hour. She's a very lovely woman and it was nice to put a  
face with the voice when we arrived today. She most certainly did not ask that  
question. I think you know she's too well mannered to do something like that.  
She said she'd heard a rumor we were seeing each other outside the office.  
Apparently, our little problem with Harry Marlow and then the drama of the  
Albert Sanders murder and our hostage situation made it into the Austin,  
Houston, and Dallas papers. She asked if there was any truth to the rumors about  
us. I told her they were true, but we liked our privacy and tried to keep our  
relationship as discreet as possible. Perry, she and I never talked about  
sleeping arrangements or whether we...well you. Anyway,we never discussed  
sleeping arrangements outside of my asking for two rooms."

Della then traced her fingers along his chest before turning to open the door  
and head out into the hallway. "I was as surprised as you when we got here and  
then bumped into one another in the bathroom," she said modestly.

"Ahhh … yes," he remarked, running his fingers from her elbow, up her arm. He  
gave her shoulder a light squeeze then caressed her back as he led her down the  
hall. "What a nice surprise too…going to unpack my shaving kit and finding a  
beautiful, naked woman in a hot bath." He let out a long sigh and shook his  
head. "But my delight quickly turned to disappointment as the beautiful woman  
gave me the boot."

"Well Mr. Disappointment, I have to keep some mystery about myself. You might  
get bored with me otherwise." She watched for his expression out of the corner  
of her eye.

Catching her play on his earlier words, he quipped, "Oh I seriously doubt that  
will ever happen, but…"he leaned closely to her ear, "I'm not above jumping in  
there with you the next time, you vixen … clothes and all."

Della's delightful laughter resonated down the open staircase as she and Perry  
made their way to the party below.

********************************************************************************\

"Perry! Della! You both look wonderful!" Raylynn White made her way across the  
large open foyer of her home and met them at the bottom of the staircase.  
Randall followed closely behind. Randall shook Perry's hand and leaned in to  
kiss Della lightly on the cheek.

"I concur," he stated with a smile.

"Oh Della, I do love your dress. Will you walk with me and help me greet the  
other guests, dear? It'll give the men a chance to admire us from afar."

Randall and Perry both laughed as the two women walked away and became engaged  
in conversation with another couple.

"She's lovely, Perry. How do you get any work done at the office?" he asked with  
a wink.

"Is that your attempt to inquire if there is more between Miss Street and myself  
than legal briefs?" Perry replied jokingly.

"Oh no, Perry. I would never pry into someone's personal life. Raylynn has the  
market cornered on that sort of thing." He laughed good naturedly, placed his  
hand on Perry's shoulder, and directed him towards an open bar in the drawing  
room. "I just happened to notice Kipsey taking yours and Della's luggage up to  
the only set of rooms in this house, outside mine and Raylynn's, which have a  
connecting bathroom between them, that's all."

"Raylynn apparently called Della to discuss our travel arrangements. They talked  
for about an hour, according to Della, and Della did confirm for her what has  
been a source of speculation for years." Perry ordered a glass of Scotch from  
the bartender and looked out over the various people walking about the  
room."Raylynn didn't mention any of this to you?"

"Oh no. Raylynn's not the gossiping type.I bet I don't know a tenth of the  
things she knows about people in this state." Randall cleared his throat. "And  
has this relationship been going on between the two of you for years?" he asked  
nonchalantly.

"I thought you said you didn't pry into the personal lives of others?" Perry  
chuckled.

Randall laughed heartily and slapped him on the back. "Touché, Perry … Touché."

"To answer your question, no… this has not been going on for years … although I  
wanted more for a long time. We started seeing each other last February." Perry  
caught a glimpse of Della as she walked by the opening to the drawing room,  
still in the company of Raylynn. He smiled and took a sip of Scotch.

"I'm happy for you Perry, genuinely happy, and I must say she's good for you. I  
seriously doubt it's just the California sun putting that glow on your face."  
The comment made Perry smile more widely and shake his head in agreement.

"As a matter of fact," Randall continued, "I've never seen you look better and I  
don't think it's apropos for the guest to look better than the host so just make  
sure you're not standing anywhere near me when the press takes my picture,  
deal?"

Laughing, Perry stuck his hand out and the men shook hands as he said, "Deal."

From behind them, Perry heard a sultry voice say, "Why Uncle Randall, it isn't  
polite to keep one of your most famous guests to yourself all evening. Why… I've  
been waiting for an introduction since he first came downstairs?"

Perry turned to see a beautiful young woman coyly looking at him through heavily  
lashed blue eyes. Her emerald green dress hung tightly to every curve and  
stopped just at the top of her knees. The low cut of the dress left little of  
its contents to the imagination as the swell of her breasts rose and fell with  
each breath. Already quite tall, her stiletto heels brought her almost eye level  
with Perry.

"I'm sorry, my dear. I certainly wasn't trying to monopolize all of Mr. Mason's  
time. We just have a lot of catching up to do. Perry Mason, this is my niece,  
Diana Leigh White. Diana, I would like you to meet my old friend, Mr. Perry  
Mason."

Diana extended her hand to Perry in a way which indicated a handshake simply  
would not do. He brought her hand to his lips and lightly kissed the top of it.  
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss White."

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Mason. I travel to Los Angeles quite often with  
friends and I love following your cases in the papers. I dare say I am one of  
your biggest fans." She looked away demurely then brought her eyes back to meet  
his. "Coincidentally, I attended a bar association function last spring in which  
you were the guest speaker. The topic was fascinating … the American dream of  
justice for all. I wanted so desperately to speak with you more in depth about  
it that evening, but couldn't get an introduction no matter how hard I tried." A  
small pout formed on her lips as she spoke these last words.

"Is that a fact?" Perry replied, turning his head rather understandingly.

"Hmm, hmm," she purred, placing her arm through his and leading him away from  
the bar to a more private part of the room where the lights were dimmer. Over  
her shoulder, she called back, "Now don't you worry about Perry, Uncle Randall."  
Very softly, she asked, "You don't mind if I call you `Perry" do you and you'll  
call me Diana?"

"I don't see a problem with that…Diana," he said pleasantly.

"Good," she replied patting his arm. "As I was saying, don't worry, Uncle  
Randall. I'll take excellent care of Perry while you attend to the other guests  
and I promise to return him in time for dinner."

Randall smiled a little wearily, afraid of any hidden meaning that may be in his  
niece's words or that little arm pat, but nodded politely to them both and  
replied, "Very well then Diana. Perry? I'll see you at dinner. Raylynn has you  
and Della sitting at our table."

"See you then Randall," Perry answered, turning his attention back to the  
curvaceous creature who'd attached herself to his side.

"Alone at last," she smiled seductively, "Now, please tell me more about your  
belief in the idea of justice for all, no matter how weak and powerless or …"  
she gently squeezed the muscles of his arm, "…how strong and powerful a person  
may be."

Chapter 7

A bell lightly sounded throughout the house. Perry, who had been engaged in  
private conversation with Diana for nearly ten minutes, looked over at a large,  
cherry wood grandmother clock, which sat on the mantle of the fireplace.

Just as he was about to suggest they head towards the dining room, a familiar  
voice called out, "Hey Perry…long time, no see!" Perry turned around and saw  
Adam Rabroker striding towards him. From the corner of his eye, Perry observed  
the look of disgust which played across Diana's face at the sound of Adam's  
voice.

Perry gently pulled his arm free from Diana and extended his hand to Adam for a  
hearty handshake.

"Adam, it's been too long. How've you been?" Perry asked happily.

"Just great! I finished law school in the spring…took the bar exam last month,  
and now I'm just waiting on the results so I can open up my own practice." Adam  
stated proudly.

"So Randall told me," Perry beamed back at him. He thought he saw a cloud pass  
over Adam's face at the mention of Randall's name and wondered if it had to do  
with a ruckus he'd overheard earlier in the afternoon after leaving Della to her  
bath.

"That is, if he actually passes the bar exam," Diana interjected with a catty  
smile.

"I passed it sweetheart. You can bet your bottom dollar on that." Adam  
responded.

Giving her a lewd smile, but speaking to Perry, he said, "So … I see you've met  
our little Diana. Hope she hasn't bored you too much with her incessant, naive  
chattering about her views of American law and justice. She really should have  
gone to law school, you know. It seems to be an obsession of hers…or should I  
say she has an obsession with powerful men involved with the law."

He took a sip of his bourbon. "Yep, as cunning and conniving as she is, she  
would have made the perfect shyster type lawyer, but why waste her own time  
becoming a lawyer when she can just flaunt what the good Lord gave her and hook  
one?" he added stingingly. He took another, slower sip of bourbon and waited for  
her response.

Diana's face flushed. "Don't listen to him, Perry. He's just bitter because he  
isn't one of those powerful men and never will be."

Adam gave a full bellied laugh and patted her on the cheek, "That's my girl.  
Always quick on the comeback."

She turned her face away from his hand as if it were covered in dirt. "I'm not  
`your girl.' You'll do well to remember that," she replied with venom seeping  
into her normally velvet voice.

"Why do I feel like I've been thrust into the middle of a war?" Perry inquired,  
hoping the cheerfulness in which he asked the question would cause Adam and  
Diana to back off of one another.

Quickly recovering from Adam's previous barb, Diana took her hand and placed it  
on Perry's shoulder. Then, she sensually ran it down Perry's back and under his  
arm, allowing it to come up and rest on his forearm. She leaned closely into his  
body while Adam just shook his head and took another sip of his drink.  
Uncomfortable with the situation, Perry started to excuse himself from them both  
when he heard a man say, "Picture for the daily telegram?" Before Perry could  
object, Diana leaned over, placed her head against his chest, and smiled  
sweetly. The camera flashed brightly in Perry's eyes. He heard the photographer  
say, "Hey, there's the Lieutenant Governor," as he moved off towards the other  
side of the room.

Seeing his aggravation, Diana looked up at him innocently. "Something wrong,  
Perry?" Perry let out a deep breath and started to speak, but Adam interrupted  
him.

"Off hand Diana, I'd say Perry doesn't want to be standing around here with you  
when he has the most beautiful woman at the party as his date."

Again, Perry started to speak, but was interrupted.

"That's not the tune you were singing this afternoon, Adam Rabroker. You  
remember? When you incorrectly assumed I was 'your' date for the evening and  
became so upset when I refused that you accosted me."

"Well, there are quite a few knockouts at this little soiree. Let's just say my  
tastes have changed for the better since this afternoon … like a man who's had  
to drink cheap penny wine on a street corner and then gets handed a bottle of  
Don Perignon." Adam narrowed his eyes after leveling this last insult.

Diana's mouth dropped and she released Perry's arm. "Are you calling me 'cheap?'  
she seethed.

"Oh no darlin'... you missed my point. You're not cheap at all. I'd imagine any  
man who hopes to bed you will have to be a damn millionaire before you let him  
through the bedroom door."

Seizing the opportunity, Perry stepped away from Diana after she released his  
arm and sat his empty glass on the bar. He then turned to Adam and spoke, "Look  
… you two obviously have numerous problems with one another that I do not want  
to be a party to and …."

"I'm sorry, Perry," Adam said earnestly. "I didn't mean to make you  
uncomfortable. As crazy as I am about this little hellcat, she doesn't seem to  
bring out the best in me." He glared at Diana, daring her to respond, but she  
only stood there skulking.

"I'm so glad you flew all the way out here for the announcement and that you  
brought Della with you. Raylynn introduced her to me a little while ago and  
she's great. As a matter of fact, I can't believe you've let her out of your  
sight this long. There are many bachelors here who would jump on the chance to  
be introduced to her, maybe scoop her up for a politician's wife."

Perry laughed. "In that case, I should probably make my way back to her. And,  
for the record, I'm glad we flew out here too. Apology accepted."

Perry turned to face Diana, who, in silent anger, had been listening to them.  
"Diana … it was nice speaking with you. I hope whatever troubles the two of you  
have with one another, you work them out amicably."

Diana gave him as dazzling a smile as she could muster, given the circumstances,  
and said, "Maybe we can talk more after dinner, Perry. I do hope you'll save a  
dance or two for me."

"Of course," Perry replied sincerely. As he started to walk away, Adam followed  
after him.

"Say Perry, I really am sorry about all this."

"It's fine Adam … really." Perry replied reassuringly.

"If you say so, but listen … I do need to talk with you later this evening, if  
you can make the time. It's about another, more personal matter …potential  
client to lawyer. Is that alright?"

Perry studied his expression for a moment. "It can't wait until tomorrow, Adam?"

"I might lose my nerve by tomorrow."

"Very well then … Come find me around 10:30 PM and we'll talk."

Adam gave him a relieved smile and, for a split second, Perry saw that awkward  
teenage boy with braces he'd met so many years ago, and not a grown man  
embarking on a career in law. Perry gave him a reassuring pat on the back and  
then turned to go find Della as the second bell, signaling the start of dinner,  
sounded throughout the house. Walking by an arrangement of bright red roses, he  
plucked one, brought it to his nose, and smiled.

*************************************************************

Della and Raylynn were engaged in a lively conversation with the State Railroad  
Commissioner and his wife when the first bell rang signifying it was almost  
dinner time. The Commissioner and his wife said their goodbyes, leaving Della  
and Raylynn standing near a set of large windows overlooking a garden and small  
pond.  
Della looked around, but did not see Perry anywhere. "Should we head into the  
dining room?" she asked.

"No, not yet, Della. Dinner will not be served for another ten minutes. Would  
you mind waiting here with me? Wherever Randall and Perry are, they'll have to  
pass us to get to the dining room. Then, we can snag them and go in together. I  
had yours and Perry's name cards placed at the head table with us." Raylynn told  
her as she smiled and ushered guests towards the dining room.

"Sounds fine with me," Della nodded as she turned towards the window. The sun  
was setting and, as it did so, a warm glow of colors cast themselves across the  
water. Della stared out, admiring how the pinks, oranges, blues, and lavenders  
swirled across the horizon.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Raylynn remarked.

"Oh yes, Raylynn. It's absolutely stunning." Della smiled warmly and returned  
her gaze to the garden.

"I've spent years cultivating that garden," Raylynn continued. She opened the  
windows, took Della by the arm and directed her attention more closely to  
outside garden. "I have eighteen carnation bushes, an entire wall of  
honeysuckle, about a dozen azalea bushes, and most recently, I added six sweet  
olive bushes. They make the most fragrant flowers. If you look below the window  
here, you'll see amaryllis. I have over two hundred of their bulbs around the  
house. But my pride and joy as a Southern woman of leisure," Raylynn gave her  
best, exaggerated, Southern belle curtsy which made Della laugh, "are my rose  
bushes. I have eighty of them made up of over twenty different varieties of  
roses."

"You've done all of this by yourself?" Della asked in amazement, gesturing out  
the window towards the garden.

"Yes…all with my own two hands. To garden is to be closer to God…at least that's  
what my grandmother always said."

"I think your grandmother was onto something … especially when it comes to the  
tending of roses." Della replied.

"Which reminds me, how did you like your roses?" Raylynn inquired, shaking hands  
with a gentleman who passed by on his way towards the dining room. When Della  
looked at her with a puzzled expression, she added, "You know, the roses Perry  
gave you before the party?"

"Yes, I know, but how, exactly, did you know?"

Raylynn laughed, "First tell me if you like them."

"I more than liked them. I absolutely loved them. I've never seen white roses  
quite like them before. It's almost like they're a marble mixture of crème and  
white and so fresh … as if the florist had just cut them and …"

Raylynn broke into a broad smile and bit her bottom lip. "Almost as if the  
florist had just cut them straight from the garden … possibly at the request of  
an extremely handsome houseguest … as a gift to his lady love?"

A surprised gasp escaped Della's mouth causing Raylynn to laugh delightedly. "He  
came down stairs to talk with Randall, but Randall was tied up in yet another  
one of his many arguments with Adam. You met him earlier?"

Della shook her head in acknowledgement. Raylynn continued.

"Well, they may not be father and son, but they couldn't be more alike…both head  
strong, stubborn, and independent. Perry heard the shouting coming from inside  
Randall's study and decided it was best to get out of Dodge. I found him roaming  
the garden. We walked and talked out there for about an hour…him asking me about  
the different roses and their meanings. Then, we happened upon my Virginia Crème  
White Rose Bushes. Imagine my chagrin when he asked to cut some of the flowers  
and take them to your room. Della … I've never let anyone work in this garden or  
take flowers from it except myself, but Perry turned on the charm and I caved."

"Are you saying Perry cut the roses for me?" Della asked in disbelief.

"He most certainly did and he arranged them in that crystal vase. I'd almost  
forgotten we had it … said he found it under the kitchen sink of all places."

Della couldn't believe it. `He is indeed a man of mystery,' she thought to  
herself. `He never ceases to amaze me.'

"Out of curiosity," Della asked, "did you tell him the meaning of the Virginia  
Crème White Roses?"

A twinkle came to Raylynn's eyes and her smile softened. "I told him that, while  
a red rose whispers passion, a white rose breathes of love. The Virginia Crème  
is most commonly used in bridal bouquets and decorating churches for weddings."

"I see," Della said turning quickly away from Raylynn.

"Della? Did I say something wrong?" she asked with concern.

"No," Della said as she wiped a small tear from her eye. "You said something  
completely right."

The second and final dinner bell then rang alerting guests it was time for them  
to find their seats and quiet down for the first speech of the evening. Randall  
emerged from his study. He looked uneasy and was speaking with a newspaper  
reporter, who was taking notes on a small pad. Raylynn waved him over and he  
held up his hand as if to say, "just a moment."

Raylynn smiled wearily at Della and softly mouthed, "Reporter," to which Della  
shook her head in understanding. She did not notice Perry slip up behind her  
until she felt his arm around her waist. Raylynn smiled at them both and walked  
towards Randall in order to give them a little privacy.

"Hello there stranger," she replied, slipping her arm around his waist. "And  
where have you been for the past half hour?"

In a low tone, he told her, "At the bar talking with Randall's niece, Diana  
Leigh White and Adam. Talk about fireworks. Remind me to tell you all about it  
later."

"Oh, I met him earlier. He seems like a nice young man … smart, polite, very  
handsome …."

"Smart, polite, and handsome? So that's your take, huh? Should I be worried?"  
Perry teased.

Della gave a throaty laugh. "Not in a million years."

"Good. Listen, I will need to sneak away from you around 10:30 P.M. Adam seems  
worried about something and asked to speak with me about it at that time. You  
think you can stay out of trouble and fend off any potential suitors for about  
half an hour?" He looked down at her mischievously. She rolled her eyes and  
wished they were in private to she could kiss the grin right off his face.

"I think I can manage for a little while."

"Good girl," he said as he saw Raylynn and Randall starting to head back their  
way.

"Questions, questions, questions," Randall muttered to Raylynn with a grimace,  
"and none about my appointment."

"I know. I'm sorry darling, but we knew it was coming." She took his hand in  
hers and gave him a supportive, sympathetic smile. He leaned over and kissed her  
cheek.

"I think we're late to our own party you two," he quipped as he tried to put on  
a happy expression for Perry and Della. `Let's get going."

Perry and Della followed Raylynn and Randall towards the dining room. Before  
entering, Perry pulled Della out of view and said, "Oh, I almost forgot."  
Handing her the single red rose he'd taken from the drawing room, he leaned down  
and stole a soft kiss from her lips. She inhaled the scent of the rose as they  
proceeded through the doors and towards their table, remembering Raylynn's  
words, "A red rose whispers passion."

Having witnessed their exchange from the other end of the hallway, Diana crossed  
her arms and let out an exasperated sigh. Her aggravation only heightened when  
Adam, a fresh glass of bourbon in his hand, pushed past her and made his way  
towards the dining room. She leaned up against the wall and tried to recompose  
herself. It seemed that not only would she have to step up her game with Perry …  
somehow she would have to put his so called secretary on notice. Believing all  
is fair in love and war, Diana resolved herself to meet and speak with Della  
before the end of the night. `She can either move out of the way,' Diana said to  
herself as she pushed off the wall and sauntered down the hallway, `or I'll  
simply run over her."


	4. Chapter 4

Upon entering the dining room, Perry and Della observed Randall walking around,  
shaking hands with various gentlemen and smiling and waving at others as he did  
so.

"Look at him politicking," Perry said with a laugh.

"He seems to enjoy it too," Della replied.

"That he does," Perry smiled, looking around the room. "Hmm…it's rather crowded.  
Do you see our table?"

Before Della could reply, Perry saw Raylynn waving at them from the front of  
room. He took Della by the elbow and gently guided her in Raylynn's direction.

As they approached, Raylynn walked towards them and spoke. "If you look up at  
the podium, you'll see Governor Price Daniel with his wife and 13 year old god  
daughter. He's going to make a small speech before dinner in which he'll  
formally announce Randall as the new Attorney General. However, he won't start  
the speech until Randall is seated and salads are being served to the guests.  
Randall, on the other hand," she said laughing and gesturing in his direction,  
"is already looking forward to his candidacy announcement tomorrow night. He'll  
glad hand all the way through dinner and Price's announcement if I let him so  
why don't ya'll go ahead and have a seat. I'll be back with my dear husband in a  
few minutes."

As she walked away, Della whispered, "She's on a first name basis with the  
governor? Very impressive."

Perry maneuvered Della towards the large front table and replied in a hushed  
tone, "You may be too by the end of the evening. I'd wager money he's sitting at  
our table, Della. Raylynn wouldn't have put him anywhere else."

Perry and Della located their name cards and Perry pulled out Della's chair for  
her. To the right of his seat, he noticed the name on the place card read `Diana  
Leigh White.' On the other side of Diana, he saw a place card which read `Adam  
Rabroker.'

Perry took an uneasy sip of ice water as he sat down and placed his left arm  
across the back of Della's seat. She was already engaged in polite conversation  
with the Lieutenant Governor's wife, who was sitting a few seats away from her.  
She had also introduced herself to another couple sitting at the table, Dr.  
Delmar White and his wife, Lucinda.

With Della distracted, Perry took a minute to contemplate his earlier encounter  
with both Diana and Adam. As an experienced man who was quite a bit older than  
Diana, Perry knew she was coming onto him when they were in the drawing room  
together. Subtlety was definitely not one of her strong points. He could also  
tell by the look in Adam's eyes that he was in love with her, but Perry  
certainly didn't understand why. Sure, she was an absolute perfect feminine  
specimen that he found, physically, very attractive, but she could not hide the  
fact that she was conceited and spoiled behind her polished manners … a definite  
turn off in Perry's book. Adam certainly exhibited a knack for breaking down her  
carefully created façade. Perry witnessed it first hand when Adam had approached  
them in the drawing room. Perry now wondered how the evening would play out  
once Diana and Adam entered and found they were sitting next to each other. The  
possibility of listening to round two did not appeal whatsoever to Perry. He  
also hoped Diana wouldn't resume her shameless flirting once seated next to him  
… certainly not with Della sitting to his other side.

Perry didn't have to wait long for the answers to his questions. After a slow  
peruse of the dining room, he saw Adam standing near the entry doors. He had a  
bourbon in one hand and Diana's arm in the other. They were clearly arguing with  
one another again and had attracted the attention of the table nearest them.  
Diana shook free of Adam's grip, straightened her dress and hair and quickly  
began walking towards the front of the room. She briefly stopped to chat with  
some young men and women about her age who were seated a few tables away from  
Perry and Della and the main table. Her laughter floated over the rumbling  
conversations of the other guests and Perry was amazed at how quickly she had  
moved from the emotions of hostility and anger to happiness and laughter in a  
span of a couple of minutes. Adam had followed behind her, his eyes clearly  
taking in her long legs and the sway of her hips. He also stopped and spoke with  
some of the guests at the same table.

As Diana said her goodbyes to several of the women, her eyes made contact with  
Perry's. A look of sheer joy spread across her face. Releasing a slow deep  
breath, Perry braced for the inevitable.

"Perry!" Diana called out. Hearing his name, Della turned her head just in time  
to see Diana place her hand on Perry's shoulder and run it across his back in  
the same manner she had earlier in the evening. Perry glanced up at her and  
smiled politely. "Hello Miss White. I see we're sitting at the same table."  
Della looked up at the young woman and her eyebrow slightly cocked as she  
observed Diana's hand continue to trail back and forth across Perry's back.

"Oh Perry … really!" She picked up the place card with her name on it and then  
dropped it back on the table. "I told you earlier to call me Diana. I must say  
… it is a wonderful surprise …our sitting next to each other. Of course I knew  
we'd  
probably be sitting at the same table seeing as how you're one of Uncle  
Randall's oldest friends and I'm family, but, with ten people to a table, I knew  
there was no guarantee we'd get to sit right next to each other. How splendid!  
After all, it's so hard to carry on intimate conversations at these large  
banquet style tables. I would have simply hated sitting so far away from you  
when we have so much to talk about."

Continuing to stroke Perry's back with her left hand, Diana looked over at her  
parents, Dr. Delmar White and Lucinda White and asked, "Father...Mother...have  
you met Mr. Perry Mason yet?"

"Actually Diana, Mr. Mason, your mother and I have met before ...at Randall and  
Raylynn's wedding."

"That's right," Perry replied with a smile, but Delmar and Lucinda sat with  
soured expressions upon their faces...unimpressed with their daughter's obvious  
interest in Perry.

"Diana smiled sweetly at her parents and glanced at Della. "Oh you must think  
I'm terribly rude. My name is Diana Leigh White. And you are?" Diana held out  
her right hand to Della.

"My name is Della Street," she replied and politely shook Diana's hand.

"Of course you are! Well this is simply marvelous! I should have recognized you  
from the papers. Adam mentioned you were attending the party with Perry." Diana  
moved her hands to Perry's cheek and gave it a light caress. "What a wonderful  
boss you are to bring your hired help with you!" She exclaimed. "It's kind of  
like a little extra vacation!"

Pulling his face back from her hand, Perry replied, "Diana, Miss Street is a  
little more than hired …" Della interrupted him.

"Why yes…you're right on both accounts, Miss White. I've never been to Texas so  
it is like a little vacation and … Mr. Mason is quite a wonderful boss." Della  
stated, maintaining a cool politeness, but inside, she was almost seething.

`Hired help? Did she just take a stab at me and disguise it as a compliment to  
Perry?' Della angrily asked herself. The answer `yes' popped into her mind and  
was almost immediately followed by an epiphany. Della had to put her hand to her  
mouth to keep from laughing as her anger turned to amusement. `That's it,' she  
thought. `She knows me from the papers? Perry's name is always mentioned in the  
papers when it comes to cases, but not mine. If a picture accompanies the  
article, it is usually one of just Perry, not me. The only way she probably  
knows my name is if she reads the gossip columns … maybe she's even heard some  
of the gossip about us firsthand. She obviously likes Perry." Della thought as  
she tuned out whatever Diana was saying to him and tried to ignore her continued  
petting of his back and shoulders. `And she's trying to push my buttons…gauge my  
reaction to her shameless flirting to see if the rumors are true or simply just  
rumors.'

Della could see Perry was completely uncomfortable with the entire situation and  
she was curious to see how he would deal with it. As for herself, she would keep  
her mouth shut for now, especially in front of Perry. She was not about to be  
unwillingly thrust into the role of a jealous girlfriend. She was too old and  
too wise to be a part of that folly and she and Perry had worked too hard to  
keep their relationship just that...their relationship. Furthermore, Perry was a  
big boy who could take care of himself. He didn't need to be told this woman was  
making a play for him nor be told how to handle it. `Diana,' she thought as she  
took a sip of iced tea, `is way out of her league on this one.'

In the meantime, Adam had finished speaking with his friends and wandered over  
to stand behind Diana as she flirted with Perry. Perry eyed him wondering if he  
would intervene as he did earlier in the drawing room, but Adam remained quiet.  
He listened to and watched Diana with disgust. He took a gulp of bourbon and  
pulled her chair out for her to sit down. She ignored him and continued talking  
to Perry. Displeased with both her stroking of his back and how she was  
standing over him, Perry removed her hand from his back, stood up, and holding  
her hand in his, guided her into the chair next to him. As Perry resumed his  
seat, he looked at Adam, who let out a deep breath, shook his head, and  
redirected his attention across the room to Randall and Raylynn, who were trying  
to make their way back to their seats.

As he'd sat down, Perry started to move his chair closer to Della when Diana  
squeezed the top of his thigh and whispered, "Thank you for getting my chair,  
Perry." Seeing her touch Perry's thigh and the sugary sweetness with which she  
punctuated his name made Della's blood boil. Keeping her composure, she took  
another, longer sip of iced tea.

Diana smiled inwardly, knowing the thigh squeeze had gotten a rise out of Della.  
Not one to back down, Diana scooted her chair closer to Perry and focused her  
attention onto Della.

"Anyway Miss Street, as I was saying a while ago, I should have recognized you  
from the papers. Perry and I were in the drawing room during cocktails and I was  
telling him what a fan I am of his work. And, well you know how some men are  
when they get the undivided attention of a woman in a cozy little spot away from  
everyone else. We nearly lost all track of time…"

"I knew exactly what time it was," Perry interjected. Diana patted his arm and  
smiled. She either completely missed or completely ignored the irritation in his  
voice.

"We were tucked away as snug as two peas in a pod then Adam arrived and told me  
you were here too. Naturally, if I'm a fan of Mr. Mason's, I'm going to be a fan  
of yours. I follow all of his cases and know he is the best so, when it comes to  
legal secretaries, you must be the best too or he wouldn't have hired you."

"Thank you Miss White." Della responded with a courteous nod of her head.

"So tell me, how long have you worked as Perry's legal secretary?"

"Eight years," Della answered.

"My goodness … how commendable. Is there or has there ever been a Mr. Street?"

"No Miss White. I've never been married." Della replied, wondering where she was  
going with this line of questioning.

"Well that does surprise me … I'd think with your beauty and intelligence, a man  
would have already scooped you up by now."

Linking her arm through Perry's, she said, "Perry, you must be working her too  
hard. A woman can't be all work and no play. Instead of dragging her here, you  
should have given her a long weekend off with pay or sent her somewhere on a  
tropical getaway. I'm afraid the only eligible bachelors you'll find here  
tonight, Miss Street, are ones who are looking for trophy wives that will  
photograph well on a campaign poster…working girls really aren't their taste."  
She gave Della a sweet smile but her eyes had more of a bemused `what do you  
think of that' look behind them.

"Then, as I told you earlier in the drawing room, Perry. You'd better not let  
Miss Street out of your sight tonight because I can think of half a dozen men  
right now who would give their eye teeth for an introduction and a chance to  
hold her closely on the dance floor." Adam said, ignoring Diana. Looking at  
Della, he added, "Not one of them would give a damn whether you were a socialite  
or a working girl, Miss Street… not the way you look in that dress. I'd love to  
run the campaign of a man who had you on his arm. Your smile alone would win him  
votes."

Having grown tired with the direction of the conversation, Perry returned his  
left arm across the back of Della's chair and let his fingers twirl a loose  
tendril at the back of her neck. Locking eyes with her, he said, "Thanks for the  
warning, Adam but I have no intention of giving any man the chance to steal  
Della away from me …not tonight or any other night."

He then turned to face Diana.

"And, for the record, Miss White," Perry clarified, putting particular emphasis  
on having not used her first name, "with Della's beauty and intelligence, some  
man has scooped her up already even though he hasn't exactly figured out how to  
get a ring on her finger yet … he certainly isn't working her too hard … and if  
she'd stayed behind in Los Angeles for a long weekend off, then he'd have stayed  
with her and, if he'd sent her some place tropical, he'd be sitting alongside  
her on the beach at this very minute."

The Lieutenant Governor and his wife had been taking in the conversation across  
the table quietly. She smiled softly at Della upon hearing Perry's words while  
the Lieutenant Governor looked uncomfortably down at his drink. Dr. White and  
his wife sat in stony silence, disapproving of their daughter.

Both Della and Diana sat in stunned disbelief …Della because Perry must have  
been immensely offended by Diana's underhanded stabs and shameless flirting to  
out their relationship in front of strangers … Diana because she genuinely  
operates under the notion she can have any man she wants and Perry put her on  
notice that he was not available. She diverted her gaze to her lap as her  
cheeks colored in embarrassment. Della said nothing and did not look over at  
Diana or even Adam who wore a satisfied smirk on his face as he finished off his  
bourbon.

"Why's everything so quiet over here?" Randall asked, pulling out the chair next  
to Della so Raylynn could sit down.

No one at the table answered.

"Diana? Why on earth are you sitting here at this table instead of with your  
friends?" Raylynn asked, confusion and curiosity evident in her voice.

"Because this is where my name card was placed. I'm family …shouldn't I be  
sitting with my family?"

"Sweetheart," Raylynn said as she rose and walked over to pick up Diana's name  
card. "I personally placed all the cards on the tables for this function and I  
know for a fact you are sitting at table twelve with all your friends. This seat  
is reserved for the god daughter of the Governor and his wife. She's here  
visiting from out of state and will come down from the podium with he and his  
wife as soon as your uncle's appointment is announced. If your card accidentally  
ended up here, then her card must be at table twelve and we can't expect her to  
sit with a group of complete along, dear and let's get this  
straightened out." Raylynn took Diana by the arm, guided her out of her seat,  
and took her over to table twelve where she received a raucous welcome. She  
returned carrying the name card of the Governor's god daughter and placed it  
neatly in front of the spot vacated by Diana. As she resumed her seat next to  
Della and placed her napkin across her lap, she leaned over and whispered,  
"Watch out for that one Della."

Della looked at her out of the corner of her eye and asked quietly, "Watch out  
for what exactly?"

"Everything, Della. Watch out for everything." Raylynn took a sip of her iced  
tea and added, "She's looking to move you out and I'm sure she has more up her  
sleeve than sneaking in here and re-arranging the name cards at the tables."

Della's mouth slightly dropped as she looked Raylynn squarely in the eyes.  
Raylynn raised a knowing eyebrow at her, poured a little dressing over her  
salad, and then turned her eyes towards the front podium as Governor Daniel  
began to speak.

The rest of Perry's and Della's dinner was filled with good food, pleasant  
conversation, and funny anecdotes. The tension and uncomfortableness of Diana's  
earlier presence at the table faded away as the different couples enjoyed one  
another's company. Dinner ended when Randall took the podium and formally  
accepted his appointment as Attorney General for the State of Texas. He was met  
with thundering applause. Governor Daniel gave him a hearty handshake as he came  
back to the table and the two of them held the pose long enough for all the  
reporters to get their picture. Governor Daniel then took the podium one more  
time, wished everyone a pleasant evening, and cued the band to start the  
evening's festivities with a rendition of the state song "Texas, Our Texas."  
When the song ended, the crowd roared with thunderous applause again and the  
band immediately broke into "Twilight Time."

As couples from around the room made their way to the dance floor, Perry stood, held out his hand to Della and asked, "May I have the pleasure of this  
dance?" Della said, "You may." She placed her hand in his and happily allowed  
him to guide her onto the floor.

The other couple's at the table followed suit, including Adam, who gallantly  
asked the Governor's god daughter if she would like to dance. The young girl  
turned a light shade of pink and giggled out her `yes' as the others smiled on …  
all except Randall's brother, Dr. Delmar White and his wife, Lucinda. Delmar  
was eight years older than his brother and their personalities could not have  
been more different. Whereas Randall had always been popular and outgoing,  
Delmar had been a bit of a social misfit as a child and grew into a quiet man  
who mostly kept to himself. Although greatly respected in the medical and law  
enforcement communities for his work as chief medical examiner for Bell county,  
few claimed to know him very well and it was rumored he was more at ease with  
the corpses he examined than with the living people around him. This included  
his wife Lucinda and only child, Diana Leigh, with whom he'd always felt an  
emotional detachment. By no means had he ever been neglectful to the girl. She  
was given anything and everything her heart desired, but her personality had  
always been bigger than life and, the more popular and outgoing she became, the  
more detached Delmar became from her. This created a source of tension between  
he and his wife as did his refusal to father more children. Unwilling to face  
the stigma and gossip of a divorce, Lucinda eventually moved into a separate  
bedroom in their home and spent more and more of her free time in Dallas and  
Houston where she was involved in a number of charitable and civic  
organizations.

As she danced with Perry, Della felt Diana's eyes burning a hole through her as  
she too made her way onto the dance floor. "Perry?" Della asked looking intently  
at his face.

"Hmmm?" he replied looking down at her and smiling softly.

"Delmar and Lucinda … he said they met you at Randall's and Raylynn's wedding  
ten years ago."

"Yes, that's right … and they didn't dance then either." Perry said jokingly as  
he slowly spun her past the band.

"Do you think what happened earlier with Diana …" Della felt him tense up.

"Do you really want to discuss this now, Della?"

Della narrowed her eyes, not really appreciating the tone he'd just used with  
her. "I hadn't planned on saying anything at all. I think you said enough for  
both of us."

Perry let out a measured breath. "Are you angry with me?" He did not make eye  
contact with her.

Della studied his expression as they took another twirl past the band. When she  
didn't answer, he looked down at her.

"Absolutely not," she replied. "I was just thinking. Maybe Diana's had a crush  
on you since she was a teenager. She met you at the wedding. You no doubt were  
devastatingly handsome and she fell hard."

"No my dear… that's not it at all. I didn't meet her at the wedding. I don't  
know where she was …boarding school maybe? Tonight was the first time I'd ever  
seen her and she came on strong from the get go."

"Hmmm," Della replied thoughtfully, then, very quietly she continued, "Perry…we  
keep so much private in regards to our relationship … and marriage …we haven't  
even talked about marriage yet."

He interrupted her. "And I just kinda laid it all out there on the table  
tonight …us … my feelings for you."

"There was no kinda to it, darling. You were quite direct … even  
confrontational." She questioningly looked into his eyes. "Why?"

He gazed down at her and cleared his throat. "Because I am protective of you …  
it goes hand in hand with being in love with you." He smiled, pulled her closer  
to him, and spoke softly into her ear. "She knows we came here as a couple. Adam  
so much as told her that when we were all together in the drawing room yet she  
chose to play it off and intentionally say things to try and hurt you … make you  
think there was something more to our meeting in the drawing room than there  
really was … I won't stand for it, Della. Would you if the roles were reversed?"

She shook her head `no.'

Della laid her head against his chest as the song ended and the band moved into  
a slower number called, "Love Letters in the Sand."

As she relaxed in his warm embrace, Perry looked across the room in time to see  
Adam standing near a side door. He was arguing with an elderly, black woman and  
a younger black man close to Adam's age. Based upon their dress, Perry was sure  
neither were guests at the party. Perry then saw Randall walk quickly in their  
direction. From his expression and gestures as he reached them, Perry surmised  
the exchange was quite heated. Perry glanced at his watch. The time read 10 P.M.  
He wasn't scheduled to meet with Adam for another half hour.

When the song ended, Perry lightly dipped Della, brought her up for a quick  
kiss, and led her off the dance floor. When he looked back in the direction of  
the side door, Randall, Adam, the younger man, and elderly woman had  
disappeared.

As Perry and Della walked off the dance floor, Perry slipped his arm around  
Della's waist and suggested, "Why don't we head to the bar and pick up a couple  
of glasses of wine? Then, I can take you for a moonlight stroll through the  
garden and dazzle you with my knowledge of the flowers."

"I think that's a grand idea," Della said with a twinkle to her eyes, never  
letting on about her earlier conversation with Raylynn.

Reaching the bar, Perry ordered two wine glasses and a bottle of white wine.  
While they waited for the bartender to retrieve the wine from the cooler, Della  
turned and looked out at the crowd. She saw Diana staring at them. When their  
eyes met, Diana tossed her hair over her shoulder, picked up her drink, and  
turned her back to them. Della let out a sigh and turned back to Perry. "You  
know, I think that dip and kiss you gave me after the song was a little too much  
for some …quite a few people were staring at us as we left the dance floor."

"Not us, Della… you … they were staring at you and those `quite a few people'  
you speak of were mostly men…probably those eligible bachelors Adam warned me  
about." Della half rolled/half cut her eyes at him and shook her head. Perry  
leaned in next to her ear and added, "Wait `til you see the dips and kisses I  
give you in the garden."

Hearing this, the bartender, an older gentleman, cracked a smile, popped the  
cork and handed Perry the glasses and wine. Perry picked them up, gave the  
bartender a wink, and nodded his head in the direction of a set of French doors  
to the side of the dining/ball room. As Della followed his lead, she casually  
said, "We need an entire bottle of wine for the garden? This must be some tour  
you're about to give me."

Perry shut the French doors behind them and, as they walked towards the garden,  
he replied in a low voice, "How about I give you the abbreviated tour … we skip  
straight to the wine … maybe a little dancing under the stars with lots of dips  
… dips which I couldn't help but notice on the dance floor accentuated  
everything positive about the cut of this dress," he paused allowing his eyes to  
linger upon her chest and the black fabric of the bodice, "and then we can move  
along to one of my other favorite moonlight activities."

Della cocked her eyebrow at him.

"Come now Della," he said teasingly, "You can't expect my intentions to be  
completely honorable…not when there's wine and moonlight involved."

Her laughter echoed throughout the quiet garden as Perry handed her the wine  
bottle and held open the gate for her to enter. As they made their way through  
the various rose bushes, Perry called out their names and told her a brief tid  
bit about each one. It amazed her that he could absorb so much information about  
roses in just one hour with Raylynn, but, then again, as a highly successful  
defense attorney, he'd learned over the years the importance of truly listening  
to what others were saying.

Perry located a wrought iron and wooden bench masked by a pergola in the middle  
of the garden and motioned for Della to sit down. The bench was located next to  
a small, man-made pond that was walled with several levels of stone rocks in  
varying shades of grey. In surveying the area around them, Della noticed it was  
the same clearing she and Raylynn had looked out upon earlier in the evening.  
Now, instead of the sunset reflecting off the water, it was the moon hanging  
high above them, casting a pearl orb onto the rippling surface. Della looked at  
the windows to the back of the house and could see people moving about. Further  
down, she could see the motion of people dancing through the windows near the  
French doors she and Perry had exited earlier. The warm breeze danced over  
Della's skin, carrying faint strands of music from the band inside with it. She  
inhaled deeply and noted the air smelled of approaching rain. She glanced around  
and spotted distant storm clouds to the west.

Perry looked out also at the far off storm clouds. He took the wine bottle from  
Della and poured two glasses. Handing one to her, he toasted, "Here's to the  
moonlight … while we still have it." He tipped his glass up towards the night  
sky.

"To moonlight," Della agreed and she took a sip of the wine. Perry then took  
her glass away from her, sat it down on a stone rock next to the pond, and moved  
closer to her. Slipping his left arm around her, he tilted her head towards his  
and drew her in for a long, slow kiss, gradually allowing his right hand to move  
from her chin, down her neck, down her arm, and to her waist where he pulled her  
more closely to him as their kisses became more passionate. When their lips  
finally parted, Perry rested his forehead against hers and steadied his  
breathing. He handed her wine back to her and they sat for a few minutes until,  
from across the garden, a familiar slow song began to play causing Perry to hum  
along. Della smiled as he stood up, took her by the hand, and they began to  
slowly sway to the faint strands of "All At Once You Love Her."

Believing they were hidden away from prying eyes, he allowed his hands to move  
up and down her body while his lips trailed down her neck to her shoulders.  
Taking another sip of wine, Della pulled him closer by bringing her arms up arm  
his neck. He picked her up in the embrace and slowly spun her around under the  
moonlight.

From an upstairs window, Diana watched silently, jealousy causing her pale blue  
eyes to become like steel. She blinked away a few tears and then turned away  
from the window, unable to watch anymore.

`What to do? What to do?' she repeated over and over to herself. She leaned  
against the wall next to the window for a couple of minutes, allowing tears to  
overrun her eyes. Wiping them away, she looked out again in time to see Perry  
refill his and Della's wine glasses. After what appeared to be another toast, he  
disappeared under the pergola. She could only see his legs as the rest of him  
was hidden by the greenery. She saw his hand reach out and take Della's, pulling  
her into his lap. With a new wave of anger welling up within her, she watched as  
Perry's hand ran the distance of Della's legs …finally coming to rest where her  
thigh met her bottom.

Diana turned angrily and walked down to the nearest bathroom. She slammed the  
door behind her and stood staring at her reflection in the mirror. `Damn it! Let  
me think about this,' she told herself. `When we were in the drawing room, he  
never pulled away from me or seemed uninterested in me or what I had to say …  
that is until Adam showed up. Then, in the dining room, he was pleasant and  
seemed to enjoy my touching him… until I tried to be snide with her. Geez…he  
practically bit my head off … and what was that 'trying to figure out how to put  
a ring on her finger' business he gave me? I've got to give her chops…she has  
her clutches into him pretty deep, but how did she do it?'

Thinking back to when she was in California, Diana replayed the conversation  
she'd had with her friends after seeing Perry Mason for the first time.

"Who is that man?" she'd asked as they sat down at their table.

"That's Perry Mason" replied one friend. "Haven't you ever heard of him?"

"No…I'm not from California" she'd replied… never taking her eyes off Perry. "Is  
he married?"

"No" said another friend, "but you can forget it honey. You see that woman he's  
dancing with?"

That's when she first really noticed Della Street. "I see her. Who is she?"  
she'd asked.

"Her name is Della Street" replied her friend, "she's his secretary."

"Just his secretary" Diana had laughed, diverting her eyes back to Perry.

"Oh no…not just his secretary…haven't you been listening to the news or the  
gossip columnists?"

Diana had shaken her head `no' and still had not taken her gaze away from Perry  
as he danced with Della.

"Some crazy guy Mason locked up a long time ago got out on parole and kidnapped  
her as revenge against him. Mason was preparing to turn over every penny he had  
to get her back when he got a tip on her location. You think he waited for the  
police? No! He went over there and saved her from this creep…beat him to a pulp  
too. The guy managed to get to a gun and shot her in front of him. They say he  
went to pieces…never left her side in the hospital and shut his whole law office  
down to personally take care of her."

"You're kidding?" Diana had replied.

"No, I'm not kidding. He may be single honey, but the word around town is he is  
most decidedly off the market. He only has eyes for Miss Street."

`That's it,' Diana said to herself. `He got hooked on her during the kidnapping  
and her whole `damsel in distress' bit.'

A realization flooded over her causing a smile to light up her face.  
`So okay…he was receptive to me one on one and then chilly when I went after  
her…so I need more one on one time with him like in the drawing room. Then, I  
need some way to make her go after me…demean me…be rude to me …it will turn him  
off to her and he will take up for me against her…yeah…use her own `damsel in  
distress' technique against her.'

Pleased with her idea, Diana tapped her finger nails on the bathroom counter and  
went over it one more time in her mind. `Oh gosh…what is that stupid thing my  
mother used to always tell me? `Kill them kindness?' Swell…I'll get her away  
from him and set her straight on my intentions…that should really make her mad.  
Then, I'll kill her with kindness in front of him and be just as sweet as apple  
pie when he and I are alone together. She'll crack and start belittling me  
either to my face or, in private, to him. He'll see me as having done nothing  
wrong…a real victim…that ought to play to his sense of fairness…his sense of  
right and wrong … and he'll defend me. It will cause a fight because, if I read  
her right, she won't put up with him defending me…I'll step in with `I tried to  
apologize for my bad behavior and be nice to her, but she refused to believe me'  
routine. He'll comfort me…I'll look into his eyes…then at his lips…we'll kiss  
and it will be history for her. I've never needed more than one kiss to hook a  
man."

Triumphantly believing she had the problem solved, Diana spent the next five  
minutes fixing her makeup and hair. She exited the bathroom, returned to the  
window, but no longer saw Perry and Della in the garden. She thought she saw her  
father rush hurriedly around the side of the house, but … `No,' she said to  
herself, `What would he be out doing by himself in the garden?'

Thinking Perry and Della likely rejoined the party, she glanced down at her  
watch. It read 10:25 PM. She made her way towards the back staircase that would  
take her to the kitchen and then to the hall leading to the grand dining room.  
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she paused, thinking she heard a noise.  
She looked back up the stairs. From behind her, a pair of arms reached out of  
the darkness…a hand slapping itself over her mouth and muffling her scream.


	5. Chapter 5

"Now watch yourself there counselor," Della Street giggled as Perry Mason pulled  
her onto his lap and ran his hand up and down her leg. "I don't want to spill  
this wine all over you." He buried his face against her bare skin and planted a  
soft kiss in her cleavage.

"Listen here young lady…I told you twenty minutes ago my intentions in coming  
out here were not honorable. Now is not the time to start putting restrictions  
on me."

Della drained her wine glass and sat it down as he squeezed her thigh and  
brought his hand to rest where it met her bottom. As his kisses became more  
urgent, she ran her fingers through the back of his hair and dipped her head to  
allow her lips to enclose over his ear lobe. He groaned, brought his head back  
and looked into her eyes, "Maybe I should be telling you to watch yourself."

"Maybe," she replied with seductively. Just as their lips were about to meet for  
another kiss, they heard angry voices outside the garden. Della slid out of  
Perry's lap and they pushed themselves as far back on the bench under the  
pergola as they could in an attempt to avoid detection.

"Now you listen to me and you listen good," Randall said heatedly. "We are  
taking this discussion outside because I don't want to upset Raylynn or have the  
reporters overhear us."

Perry raised his eyebrows and looked at Della whose eyes had widened at hearing  
the anger in Randall's voice.

"I don't care what your mother thinks she overheard Lauralynn say on the phone  
the day she died, but I never had sex with a woman named Dessie Reed! I don't  
even remember knowing or meeting a woman at U.T. by that name. You are wrong!  
Dead wrong, Lottie!" Randall growled as he pointed a finger in the elderly black  
woman's direction.

"Funny choice of words there, Randall," Adam said quietly.

"Don't you start on me again!" Randall yelled in his direction.

"Don't you point your finger at my mother like that," Samuel Carter Jr. said,  
stepping between his mother and Randall.

"I heard what I heard," Lottie said indignantly, "and I ain't no liar neither.  
Miss Lauralynn received a long distance call from someone named Dessie Reed. She  
told Miss Lauralynn you two had been an item for a long time…that you two was engaged…said Miss Lauralynn better call off the engagement or she'd ruin  
you both."

"Lauralynn was upset with me and called off the engagement long before this  
supposed phone call took place. The day of the murder was when I decided to go  
over and have it out with her about why she was so angry...why she'd abruptly  
called off the engagement again." Randall replied.

"I don't know nothing about that. All I know is what I heard being said on the  
phone." Lottie answered.

"You listened in on the other line?" Randall asked.

"I did…never hung up the other extension after I called Miss Lauralynn to the  
phone." Lottie crossed her arms and looked him squarely in the eyes. "I also  
overheard your fight with her out back that morning."

Randall looked shocked. "How could you? We were alone."

"No you wasn't. I'd been out hanging the clothes on the line when you two came  
tearing around the corner. I hid `round side of the house so ya'll wouldn't see  
me."

"You and Lauralynn fought the day of the murder? Is that why you were rushing  
from around back of the house when Daddy came out after Sam?" Adam looked at him  
intently. "You and Sam plowed right into each other. I assumed you had just  
pulled up to see Lauralynn. I didn't know you'd already been there for quite  
some time arguing with her." Adam looked pleadingly into his eyes, "Randall,  
tell me you didn't kill them?"

"What!? Are you crazy? Me kill Lauralynn? I worshipped her! I couldn't have  
harmed a hair on her head." Randall looked from him to Lottie and then to Sam  
Jr.

"This is all your fault…you know that? You and that damned letter you wrote to  
the editor." Randall lunged for Sam Jr. Adam grabbed him around the waist and  
held him back.

Perry and Della sat motionless …still concealed within the heavy greenery of the  
pergola, but both thought they heard someone running away although they couldn't  
be for sure. They looked in the direction of the footsteps but could see  
nothing...clouds having already obscured the moonlight.

"Did you kill them Randall and then pin the murder on my father? You argued with  
her that day. Did she throw her ring at you again …like the last time you'd  
broken up? Is that how the ring so conveniently ended up in my father's ashes?  
He sure as hell wouldn't have stolen it Randall." Sam Jr. barely got the last  
words out as his voice choked.

His mother put her arm around him and looked at Randall. "He was a good, decent,  
hard working man, Randall. He'd never have stolen that ring." She released Sam  
Jr. and took a defiant step towards Randall. "And he'd NEVER have killed Mr. and  
Mrs. Rabroker or sweet Lauralynn."

Adam stepped back from Randall. "I can't listen to anymore. Lottie…Sam …you'd  
better be getting home now. You came here and confronted him…you heard what he  
had to say…just go home."

Adam took off at a fast pace towards the garden gate and headed back into the  
house through the same doors Perry and Della had exited out of on their way for  
a stroll in the moonlight.

"I didn't kill them," he stated sadly. He followed after Adam. Sam Jr. took his  
mother's arm and headed out of the garden through an opposite gate that led in  
the direction of a long driveway.

When they were sure it was clear, Perry looked at Della and blew out a long  
breath. "What do you make of that, Della?"

"I'm not sure. You think it has something to do with Adam wanting to meet with  
you tonight?"

"Possibly." Perry looked down at his watch. "It's 10:30 PM now. Let's head back  
inside." He took her by the arm and they walked back up the path, past the rose  
bushes, and through the gate. "You sure you're going to be alright by yourself  
for a little while."

Della nodded as he held open the French doors for her, "I'll wait for you at the  
table …maybe take a few more turns on the dance floor."

"I promise I won't be too long. I'd like to take some of those turns with you. I  
still have quite a few dips up my sleeve." Della laughed and replied, "I don't  
doubt it."

"Well, where on earth have ya'll been?" Raylynn asked as they approached the  
table. "First Adam disappears…then Randall …and then the two of you. I was  
getting ready to send out a search party," she laughed.

"Search party for what?" Delmar White asked gruffly as he seated himself back at  
the table.

"Alas…another missing guest returns. Delmar…have you seen Randall anywhere? He's  
been gone for half an hour. That's not like him at all…not when we have guests."  
Raylynn said with a half exasperated/half worried tone.

"I'm not my brother's keeper." He replied tossing back a double scotch he'd  
brought back with him to the table.

Perry pulled out Della's seat and looked at Raylynn. "Hmm...they should both be  
in here. I was just going to look for Adam myself. If I see Randall, I'll send  
him in your direction, okay?"

"Thank you Perry," she replied gratefully as she threw a disgusted glance in the  
direction of Delmar.

Perry gave Della's shoulder a squeeze and walked off in search of Adam.

****************************************************************

Terrified and unable to wrench free of the stranger's grasp, Diana bit the hand  
covering her mouth and heard a man's voice yell out in pain. He spun her around  
and pinned her against the wall of the hallway. She looked up at her assailant,  
let out a shocked cry, and brought her right hand across his face.

"What in the hell are biting and hitting me for?" Adam Rabroker demanded as he  
held her against the wall with one hand and tried to shake the pain out of the  
other.

"What are doing sneaking up on people in a dark hallway?" she tossed back at  
him.

"What are you doing sneaking around in dark hallways when there's a party going  
on?" Adam released his grip and brought his hand up to touch her face. "When are  
you gonna quit being such a hellcat and give me a chance to love you the way you  
should be loved?" He brought his thumb across her bottom lip.

She looked into his eyes. "I thought you liked girls with a little spunk to  
them…you know, a little challenge. Surely you don't want a door mat."

"You know, you're kind of like those firecrackers we used to play with as  
kids…hold them for too long or too closely and you're bound to get burned."

"Is that a fact?" she asked rubbing her hands up and down his chest.

"Hmm, hmm." Adam leaned down to kiss her lips and she brought up her right  
knee…effectively hitting him in the groin. He yelled out and doubled over in  
pain.

"That's for this afternoon in front of Julianne's." She then threw the weight of  
her body into him causing him to fall into the wall. "That's for interrupting me  
and Perry in the drawing room." Finally, she slapped him across the other side  
of his face as he was still holding himself from the groin kick. "And that's for  
scaring me half to death and manhandling me when I came down the stairs. Get  
this through your head…I'm in love with another man!"

She turned to stomp off towards the dance when he began laughing and stumbled  
after her. "In love with another man? He doesn't even know you exist…well, he  
does, but he thinks you're a bitch…and rightly so, I might add. He's a great  
judge of character, Diana and he's got you pegged to a `T.'"

Angrily, she walked back towards him. He was just getting himself back to a full  
upright position when she brought her knee up and tried to nail him again. He  
caught her leg…she lost her balance…and fell into him causing him to hit the  
floor and pull her down on top of him.

She furiously banged her fists into his chest, but he just laid there laughing  
and half-heartedly trying to defend himself. She rolled off of him…stood  
up…kicked him in the side with the point of her stiletto heel, and yelled, "One  
of these days, I'm going to kill you Adam Rabroker! You just wait and see!"

As Diana left Adam lying on the hallway floor, Kipsey emerged, wide eyed and in  
shock, from the shadows. He helped Adam off the floor and started to speak, but  
Adam just smiled. "Don't worry about it Kipsey. I wish you had a dime for every  
time that woman threatened to kill me." Adam patted him on the shoulder, "If you  
did, you sure as hell wouldn't have to work here."

Adam looked down at his watch. It read 10:35 PM. "Damn it, I'm running late."  
Straightening his jacket and tie, he left Kipsey standing speechless in the  
hallway and headed off to find Perry Mason.

*************************************

Glancing at his watch again, Perry Mason walked briskly away from the other  
party goers to go in search of Adam. Della called after him to wait just a  
moment. He stopped and gave her a mischievous smile. "I'm not going to be gone  
long, Della. I don't think chasing after me for a kiss goodbye is necessary."

Della rolled her eyes and shook her head as she laughed and reached into his  
jacket pocket. "Don't go gettin' too full of yourself, Mr. Mason. I don't recall  
ever having chased after you anywhere except after a murderer or a witness...but  
not for a kiss. It's just that, after that little gardening lesson you gave me,  
I definitely need to head to the ladies room and fix my face."

He chuckled and she gave him a wink as she headed towards the restrooms. Perry  
watched her go and then watched as Randall intercepted her, whispered something  
in her ear, and then led her towards the dance floor. Della dropped off her  
compact and the lipstick she'd retrieved from Perry's pocket at the table on the  
way. Perry laughed when he saw Randall flash him a huge grin and flamboyant  
wave. He then whisked Della across the dance floor while she laughed  
delightedly.

Perry turned and left the room. As he entered the front foyer, Diana barreled  
around the corner and straight into him. Not realizing who he'd run into, Perry  
grabbed her by the arms to keep his balance and she let out a string of  
apologies before looking up and realizing she was being held by the source of  
her obsession.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Perry. I should've been looking where I was going. I didn't  
hurt you, did I?" She stepped back away from him as he released her arms and  
straightened his jacket. Looking into her eyes, he didn't see any traces of the  
vamp that had been crawling all over him from the first introduction. All he saw  
was a very beautiful young woman who looked, for a moment, like a scared little  
girl.

"No, Diana...you didn't hurt me," he said with a slight smile. "Where are you  
off to in such a hurry anyway?"

"Nowhere in particular," she said, biting her bottom lip and glancing down at  
her dress. There was a slight tear making the side slit deeper than good taste  
dictated. Perry's eyes followed hers. Noting the tear, he asked, "Are you sure  
you're okay? You're not in any trouble, are you?"

"None that's not of my own making," she replied ruefully. "Listen Perry…about  
earlier…I really do admire Miss Street and believe, as exceptional a lawyer as  
you are, part of your success stems from having the best employees around you,  
which means she's the best too. And," she drew out, fiddling with a diamond  
bracelet she wore on her arm, "if that employer/employee relationship has  
deepened into a personal relationship between you two, as so many gossip  
columnists have reported, then I had no right to open my mouth and go on a  
fishing expedition to find out if the rumors were indeed true."

Perry said nothing, but studied her carefully. "You can't blame a girl for  
trying now, Perry. You're quite handsome and a brilliant lawyer. I am just  
enamored by the study of our legal system. Adam's right…I should have gone to  
law school."

"Why didn't you?" Perry interrupted.

She shrugged her shoulders and gave him a weak smile. "Well, as I was saying,  
you are handsome and brilliant. I've found many times a rumor is just that…a  
rumor. I knew tonight that, if I dispelled the rumor of you and Miss Street,  
then I could shamelessly flirt with you `til the cows came home and maybe even  
get you to ask me out. Since I obviously didn't dispel the rumor, then I know  
you're off limits and I owe Miss Street a huge apology."

Perry took a deep breath and looked at his watch. '10:45 PM…where the hell was  
Adam?'

"Listen Diana…let me give you some advice for the future and forgive me if I  
sound like I'm patronizing you, but… men don't like it when women throw  
themselves at them. Try being yourself when you find a man you're interested in  
and…maybe keep them a little closer to you own age." Perry laughed and clasped  
his hands behind his back. "As flattered as I am by your attentions, I am simply  
too old for you."

Diana smiled and looked bashfully down at the ground. "And you and Miss Street?  
I mean...what you said back at the table..."

He took her chin and tilted it up so he could look in her eyes. Shaking his head  
slowly, he replied, "That topic is off limits."

"I understand. How `bout I go find Miss Street and try to pull my foot out of my  
mouth?"

Perry laughed. "I think a simple apology will be just fine. Thank you for being  
so upfront. I appreciate it." Perry stepped away from her and went off in search  
of Adam.

Walking off towards the dining room, Diana could hardly contain her glee and it  
was evident by the bounce in her step. She'd all but forgotten her run-in with  
Adam. She was now refocused on her primary objective. `Step one…apologize and  
make Perry comfortable with me again…get his guard down…check!' She thought  
joyfully to herself.

Upon entering the dining room, she looked around and saw Della leaving the dance  
floor with Randall. She watched as Della stopped at the head table, picked up  
what looked like a compact, and moved in the direction of the powder room. `Step  
two…put Miss Street on notice,' Diana's eyes glistened with anticipation, `and  
turn her into the kind of woman Perry definitely doesn't want.' Diana flipped  
her hair with a swift motion of her hand, brought her shoulders back, pushed her  
bosom out, and headed towards her showdown with Della.

******************************

After watching Diana disappear around the corner, Perry headed off in search of  
Adam. As he passed by the door to the drawing room, he heard a voice call out,  
"Perry! I'm in here!"

Perry stepped inside the room and found Adam stretched out in a chair. His hair  
looked tousled and his eyes glossy with too much drink. His shirt was untucked  
and he held an icepack firmly to his side.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Perry. I ran into a little trouble and had  
to come get an icepack from the bar. I figured you'd walk by sooner or later so  
I've been keepin' a watch out for you." Adam grinned and motioned at the couch  
across from him. Perry unbuttoned his jacket and sat down. With a puzzled  
expression, he asked, "What kind of trouble did you run into exactly?"

"The most painful kind," Adam said jokingly, adding, "Female."

"I see," Perry said, tapping his fingers together in thought. "Diana?"

Adam didn't say anything. He rested his head back on a pillow, closed his eyes,  
and nodded.

"Is that how her dress got torn?" Perry asked.

"Maybe…we were arguing…it got physical…as always, and we both ended up falling  
on the ground."

"You two certainly have…shall we say…a tumultuous relationship."

"Always have, always will, Perry." Adam opened his eyes and looked up at the  
ceiling. "One day, though, I'll convince her she can't live without me. Then,  
I'll string her a long a little bit just so she can get a taste of what she's  
done to me all these years. Finally, I'll marry her." Adam looked back at Perry  
who sat silently with a faint trace of a smile on his lips.

"I don't know Adam. Arguing in a healthy relationship shouldn't be turning  
physical."

"That's just how we are Perry. I can't resist the urge to kiss or hold her and  
she can't resist the urge to smack me. I'm tellin' ya… you gotta watch Texas  
women no matter how well bred they are…when they lose their tempers, wowweee!"  
Adam laughed. "For now, I have to convince her she's not in love with you." He  
raised his eyebrows good naturedly at Perry.

"Oh…she's not in love with me Adam. She was doing some fantastic flirting  
earlier…so much so that, if I were a younger man and not attached, I would have  
responded," Perry paused and a large grin spread across his face, "quite  
favorably. As it stands now, I think she understands I'm simply not interested."

"Because of Della?" Adam inquired, sitting up on the couch and removing the ice  
pack.

"Yes…because of Della." Perry answered, remembering the garden and smiling.

Adam shook his head in acknowledgment. "Care to elaborate? I can use all the  
advice I can get."

Perry laughed and sat forward. "Well…that's a hard one, Adam. Della and Diana  
are as different as night and day. Honestly, if you really want to see where you  
stand with her, quit showering her with attention…date other women…see how she  
responds. That, of course, could go three ways. One…she could get so jealous  
that she has a change of heart towards you and starts showing a more loving,  
non-violent interest in you." Perry pointed at Adam's side as he said this  
causing the younger man to laugh and shake his head in agreement. "Of course,  
that will start to wan as soon as she gets your interest back. Two…she could  
become jealous, realize you are the one for her, that she's tired of playing cat  
and mouse games with you …she'll woo you back, and stay with you…even marry you.  
Or…three, she'll care less than spit about what you do, consider herself lucky  
to finally be rid of you, and she'll move on to her next love interest with  
fervor. If you're really in love with her, I hope you get option two, but she  
reminds me of someone I used to know, used to date…before Della. Like Diana, she  
was position and power hungry…always wanted what she couldn't have… loved cat  
and mouse games…having all men in her thrall…she was extremely beautiful and  
knew it, using it to her advantage…it wears on you after a while, Adam. Option  
two would be great, but I think you're probably looking at options one or three  
with this girl."

"What type of option is Della?" Adam asked sincerely. He'd always enjoyed talks  
with Perry. Perry had given him some great advice over the years and it was  
these types of talks Adam imagined himself having with his own father if he were  
still alive.

"None…one of the many reasons I'm in love with her."

"I don't know Perry. I feel like I've loved Diana for so long. She has to be the  
one." Adam stood up and stretched gingerly, wincing as he turned from side to  
side.

"Or…you'll go into private practice one day and hire your own `Della.' Her  
physical beauty will grab your attention immediately. As you work with her, day  
in and day out, you'll start to see what an exceptional woman she is… you'll  
start noticing how aggravating and energy consuming a woman like Diana can be  
yet how recharged and focused you feel with your `Della'… You will find  
yourself each day doing a side by side comparison of the two women…your `Della'  
will effectively knock thoughts of Diana right out of your mind. Before you know  
it," Perry stood up and walked over to face Adam, "Diana will be a distant  
memory."

"Look for a `Della'?" Adam asked, placing his hands on his hips.

Perry placed his hands on Adam's shoulders. "I want what's best for you, Adam.  
She's an option one or three. She has a lot of growing up to do too, but she'll  
likely always be a one or three. I want you to find your own `Della.'"

"You gonna marry her?" Adam asked intently.

"I hope so…someday." Perry replied. "Now… how `bout we talk about what's  
bothering you? What was so urgent that it couldn't wait `til tomorrow?"

Adam's warm, relaxed demeanor iced over. "I think Randall killed my family."

"What?!" Perry exclaimed. "Lawyer to lawyer, I don't have to tell you that's a  
pretty serious accusation. What has you so wound up that you're thinking in that  
direction? Is it the letter to the editor that was published today claiming  
Randall participated in the lynching of the accused man?"

"You heard about that?" Adam asked quietly.

"Della bought a copy of the Dallas Morning News and showed it to me on the  
plane." Perry watched as Adam's expression became a mixture of sadness and  
anger. His cheeks flushed and he began pacing in front of the couch.

"Sam Jr. had no right, Perry…No right!" Adam's voice choked and he stopped as  
two men walked by the drawing room doors. Their conversation broke as they heard  
Adam's shout. They looked at one another and then continued quickly away from  
the room. Adam moved back to stand directly in front of Perry. He looked him in  
the eyes and Perry could see he was on the verge of breaking. Adam gulped,  
looked down at the ground, took a deep breath, and brought his eyes up to meet  
Perry's again. In a much lower voice, he said, "Look, Sam Jr. and I are friends.  
I went over there today and we got into a bit of a scuffle over the letters he  
sent out. I told him that while he didn't have to care about Randall's future,  
he should care about mine. Perry… Randall will help set up my practice. I also  
need the experience of a campaign plus his political contacts on my side if I'm  
eventually gonna move into politics."

"Accusing him of murdering your family does more damage than Sam Jr.'s  
accusation. What do you want me to do?" Perry asked.

"I want you to prove me wrong. I love Randall, Perry. He raised me and he took  
on the responsibility of my family's estate and me while still being young  
himself. It kills me Perry…absolutely kills me to think he murdered my family. I  
was in that house too, you know? I lived because I was told to runaway. If he's the  
killer and I hadn't hidden, I would be dead too. Have I been living with and,  
loving like a father all these years, the very man who would have killed me had  
he found me?" Adam's voice was strained and his eyes glassy.

"Okay," Perry said calmly. "Let's think about this. If Randall were the killer …  
and I want you to lay it all out for me in a minute…meaning, what proof you have  
that it may be him, then…if he were the killer, wouldn't he know you're in the  
house and look for you…not leave any witnesses?"

Adam shook his head yes. "But Perry, Sam Sr. would have known to look for me  
too. I was five years old. Where else would I have been?"

"Good point. Now, let's sit down and you tell me why you think it's Randall."

"Randall and I couldn't stand to live in the house after the murders so he  
closed it up. It has been closed up since two weeks after the funerals. Now, my  
father's will set it up so my mother inherited everything and vice versa  
depending on who died first. Should both parents die before Lauralynn and I  
reach the age of twenty-five, then the estate goes into a trust for us.  
Randall's father drew up the will and he was to be the executor of the will and  
trustee of the estate. Two weeks before the murders, Randall was made executor  
and put in charge of the trust. His back up was Uncle Delmar, which is sort of  
strange, but my father liked Delmar and he was dating Lucinda, who, if you  
didn't know, is a distant cousin."

Perry interrupted. "No, I didn't know that. Randall's never said anything about  
it. I mean, I knew he and Delmar were not close, but it never even came up…not  
even at he and Raylynn's wedding. Specifically how is she related to you?"

"The easiest way to explain it is my paternal great-grandfather and her paternal great-  
grandmother were brother and sister."

"I understand. Go on." Perry told him.

"So, why did my father make that change a month before the murders?" Adam asked.

"Did you ask Randall?" Perry answered.

"Sure I did. I asked him about it this afternoon." Adam replied.

"Is that why you two were shouting at each other? Sounded like a pretty bad row  
was going on."

Adam looked surprised. "You overheard the fight?"

"Yes. I went downstairs to talk to him…overheard the shouting; and went out with  
Raylynn for a walk in the garden." Perry responded.

"I accused him of the murders …told him I believed he conned his way into  
becoming executor of the estate so he could then kill my parents, marry  
Lauralynn and gain control of all the money. But something went wrong…he  
couldn't kill my parents and get out of the house quickly enough. Lauralynn  
overheard the fighting and shots. She told me to run away and then went to help our  
parents. Randall then had no choice but to kill her too because she could  
identify him. She was stabbed to death Perry. I overheard Randall and Delmar  
talking about it not long after the murders. Stabbing someone requires up close,  
personal contact. It is `intimate' if that is an appropriate word to use.  
Strangers very rarely stab someone to death."

"Was Randall the beneficiary of your parents' estate should you and Lauralynn  
both die?" Perry asked.

"No Perry…I've read the will. No one else was listed."

"Then, the estate would have gone to your next, closest living relative. Any  
idea who that might be?"

"I haven't a clue Perry." Adam said painfully. "We had lots of distant  
relatives. No one came forward to take me after the murders except Randall. He  
petitioned for custody. Looking back, I find it remarkable…you know…a college  
student taking on the responsibility of raising a small child. He only had to  
manage the estate `til I came of age. He could have sent me anywhere to live…the  
orphanage, state school, a private school, or even paid off a relative to raise  
me."

"He told me he petitioned the court for guardianship of you and no other  
relatives came forward to contest it. Doesn't that say something to you Adam?  
What makes you think he killed your family and not you or that he'd kill you had  
he been given the chance? I've known him a long time Adam and, although I was  
shocked to learn he'd stood by and done nothing to stop such a grievous  
miscarriage of justice as a lynching, I certainly don't see him as a killer."  
Perry watched Adam's expression carefully, allowing a moment for the young man  
to fully absorb what he'd just said.

Adam ran his fingers through his hair, walked over, and sat back down on the  
couch. "I went back into the house last month…for the first time since I was a  
boy. It was just like I'd remembered it once I'd removed all the white cloth  
tarps covering the furniture. I went to the attic to have a look around and  
found an old trunk. It was locked, but the wood was warped and, I don't know, I  
felt drawn to it. I had to get it open so I busted it apart. Inside was a lot of  
miscellaneous items, but wrapped in an old towel, I found a shot gun. The towel  
had brown discolorations all over it like old blood. Wrapped in the same towel…"  
Adam paused and his eyes teared over. "Perry…my sister's engagement ring from  
Randall was wrapped in the towel with the gun. I think it's the same shotgun  
used on my parents. I also found a knife with dried blood all over. Since then,  
I can't sleep at night. It's like going into the house has opened a floodgate of  
memories from that night, you know. I wake up to the sounds of screaming and  
gunshots. I wake up shaking and crying. I have visions of seeing Sam Sr. running  
away from the house, but there's someone else there too…someone chasing him…and  
he looks scared, but I don't see blood on him…and then there's Lauralynn's voice  
screaming out, `Randall!' I don't know the difference anymore between the  
nightmares and what might be real memories."

"Adam? Did you ask Randall about the trunk today? I don't remember hearing anything about the murder weapons being missing after the crime and I do remember Randall saying he picked up that ring from the ashes under Sam's scorched body. Isn't it possible Randall simply put those things away?"

"Maybe," Adam replied, "but why weren't they with the Sherriff's Department in the evidence room or something? Looks kinda fishy that Randall would have them."

"The Sheriif never fully investigated the crime though. Sam Sr. was killed before a formal charge could be levied against him. With that kind of vigilante justice, I wouldn't be surprised if much of the crime scene evidence never made it to the hands of the authorities."

Perry sat quietly, allowing Adam to absorb the information. He hoped Adam would get everything out into the open. Hoping he'd confide in him about the argument he and Della had overheard earlier in the  
garden, Perry asked, "Is there more?" Adam shook his head up and down.

"Something didn't look right when I started going over the financial statements  
for all the years Randall has been managing my inheritance. Money is missing and  
some property has been sold. I don't know yet who it was sold to though. One  
year the property is listed as part of my assets. The next year it is gone, but  
no large cash sum of money is listed to make up for the sale nor is another  
property listed in its place like some people do around here when they swap land  
for land and just do a quick quit claim deed. I need you Perry. I need you to  
help me sort out what's real and not real…show me Randall did not kill my family  
and bring in someone to go back and research all the old records at the  
courthouse to find out who now owns that missing land. Hell, maybe I still own  
it and it's a mistake, but I don't think that's the case."

"How old were you when the land disappeared from the financial statement?" Perry  
asked.

"I was ten years old. It's gonna be hell researching it too, Perry. A twister  
came through a few years back and did a ton of damage to the courthouse. Many  
records in the basement were lost or ruined when storm water flooded the  
building."

"Get me copies of all the financial statements dating back from the time you  
were born, if you can. I want to see what type of financial shape your parents  
were in and then trace the condition of the estate through the years. First  
thing in the morning, I'll call my private investigator, Paul Drake, and fly him  
down here on Monday to begin research at the courthouse. I'll go back to the  
house with you tomorrow after breakfast and we'll retrieve the gun, knife, ring,  
and anything else we find and catalog it. Come Monday, I'll have Paul, with your  
written consent, try to obtain the autopsy reports on your family. We'll contact  
the local sheriff and see if any evidence was retained on the case."

Both men's heads turned towards a side door at the sound of the hard wood floor  
creaking and footsteps running away. They both jumped up and moved towards the  
door. Adam jerked it open, but no one was there and the hallway was empty.

In a very hushed voice, Perry looked at Adam and asked, "Are you sure there's  
nothing else you want to tell me?"

Adam shook his head. "No Perry…that's it."

"Alright then Adam. I'll see you bright and early after breakfast." Perry  
glanced at his watch. It read a little after 11 P.M. "Try not to worry. We'll  
get it straightened out, okay?"

Adam smiled wearily. "Thanks Perry."

Perry patted him on the shoulder, turned, and headed out of the drawing room. As  
soon as he was out of sight, Adam's eyes narrowed and he looked down the long  
hall where the sound of the footsteps had disappeared. Hurriedly, he took off in  
search for their owner.


	6. Chapter 6

After dancing with Randall through two songs, Della excused herself from the  
dance floor, retrieved her compact and lipstick and headed in the direction of  
the ladies room.  
She stood in front of the mirror and used her fingers to gently fix any  
misplaced tendrils. Then, she lightly powdered her face. She heard the door open  
behind her and the sound of a young woman clearing her throat. Della turned and  
found Diana staring back at her.

"Diana," she said pleasantly "are you having a nice evening?"

"Perfectly divine…and you?" Diana crossed her arms and took a few steps towards  
her.

"Yes, thank you," Della replied.

"Look, Miss Street. Let's drop the pleasantries. I didn't come in here to check  
my make up or use the restroom. I followed you. There's no nice way to say this  
so I'll just come out with it. After attending a bar association dinner last  
February, I was completely swept off my feet by one Mr. Perry Mason. Now, I  
understand the two of you are seeing each other and you've worked for him a long  
time, but I'm here to put you on notice as to my intentions…" Della interrupted  
her.

"I don't need to be put on notice. I think your intentions have been perfectly  
clear all evening."

Diana smiled, "Well, when I see what I want, I go after it and I want him…for  
keeps."

Della laughed, "I see."

"This is no laughing matter Miss Street. Before Adam interrupted us in the  
drawing room prior to dinner, Perry and I were quite taken with one another.  
Now, being the gentleman that he is, I was not surprised that he defended you at  
the table…you know the old adage about staying with the one you took to the  
party, but I guarantee you he'd rather be here with me tonight…and, when the  
party is over, I intend to be the one he leaves with."

Diana watched Della closely, waiting for her reaction. Della turned, picked up  
her lipstick and carefully applied it to her lips.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Diana asked, a little frustration creeping  
into her voice.

Della put the lid back on her lipstick and slowly turned to face her. This time,  
she wasn't smiling.

"Don't you think you've said enough?" Della asked, staring directly into Diana's  
eyes.

"Apparently not…you do understand? I want Perry." Diana waited for some flash of  
anger from Della.

"I understand perfectly. You want Perry. Is there anything else you need to tell  
me or is that it… `You… want… Perry.'" Della's expression remained calm…the tone  
of her voice that of a woman speaking to a spoiled child on the verge of a  
temper tantrum.

Diana took another step closer to Della. "Look…you've worked for him for years.  
He didn't want to date you in all that time. You were just his secretary.  
Oh…maybe he wondered about what you had under your little office suits and maybe  
he fantasized about getting you into bed. Many bosses, given enough time with an  
attractive secretary, wonder the same thing…it could be that's why he hired  
you…I bet you were a nice little number to look at…when you were in your prime.  
Still, years go by and he doesn't cross that line. Then, you go get yourself  
kidnapped by a lunatic about six months ago and that's the catalyst. Perry falls  
for the damsel in distress bit. It does suit his nature after all…defending or  
taking care of those who can't defend or take care of themselves. He saves  
you…you get shot…he blames himself… guilt makes him think he wants you and…here  
we are."

Della felt the color rise in her cheeks. Diana continued. "Now, I'm not without  
feeling here, Miss Street. You obviously care for him to have stayed with him  
all these years despite being unable to engage him in any relationship outside  
the office. Do us both a favor. You're a working girl…not wife material for a  
man of his stature. I am marriage material for a man like him. I have the  
breeding, education, family background and political ties that will be a  
compliment to him and his career. Back off and leave him for me this weekend  
and, after I lead him exactly where I could see in his eyes that he wants to go  
in the first place, I'll make sure you get to keep your job. Try to keep me from  
Perry and, when I do get him, the first change I make as the soon to be Mrs.  
Mason, is to send you packing straight out of Los Angeles. There's not a firm or  
private lawyer who will hire you when I get done with you."

Della picked up her lipstick and compact and walked towards the door without  
saying a word.

Diana called after her, "I mean it Miss Street. I want him starting tonight.  
Stay out of my way or else."

Della turned and looked at her one last time before exiting the ladies room.  
Diana walked over to the mirror and smiled at herself. She could tell she pushed  
Della's buttons with her last statement and knew it was only a matter of time  
before jealousy got the better of Della and she confronted Perry. `Then, I'll  
sit back and be as sweet as pie to her in front of him which will make her  
angrier. She'll harp on me in private. He'll see me as having done nothing  
wrong. He'll turn on her and defend me in the arguments which will further fuel  
her anger. They will start fighting more and then it will be my turn to play the  
damsel in distress with her in the role of jealous, crazy girlfriend.'

Satisfied that she'd planted the seed of destruction in Perry's and Della's  
relationship, she left the ladies room in order to find Perry and talk him into  
a spin around the dance floor.

****************************************************************

As Diana walked out of the ladies room, she scanned the dining room and dance  
floor. To her right, she saw Della ordering a drink at the bar and speaking with  
the bartender. A broad smile covered Diana's face. `My goodness! I rattled her  
cage so much that she headed straight to the bar. The only thing better than a  
jealous girlfriend is a drunken jealous girlfriend. Bottoms up dear,' she said  
to herself as she started to walk back towards her own table. The sight of Perry  
striding into the room caught her attention and she started to call out to him,  
but he veered straight in the direction of Della at the bar. Diana decided to  
wait a few minutes and give Della enough time to hang herself before she walked  
over and asked Perry to dance.

********************************************************************************\

Perry walked into the dining room and immediately noticed Della at the bar. She  
was ordering a drink and speaking quietly to the same elderly bartender from  
whom Perry had gotten the bottle of wine and glasses for their earlier garden  
stroll. Smiling, Perry walked up behind her and asked, "Did you miss me?"

Recognizing the teasing nature of his voice, she did not turn around. She took a  
sip of white wine and answered, "Possibly."

He leaned into her ear and whispered, "Just possibly? Do I need to take you back  
out to that pergola?"

Della laughed and turned to face him. "Anytime you're ready."

Perry stroked the side of her cheek. "I'd much rather take you upstairs."

"Sounds nice, but the party's not quite over yet and we'd be missed unless we  
had a grand excuse for leaving. How was your meeting with Adam?" She saw the  
playful expression leave his face and be replaced by one of solemn seriousness.

"I have a lot to tell you, but not here." Perry looked out across the room as he  
spoke.

"Sounds serious," Della replied, concern also etching its way onto her face.

Perry spoke in a hushed tone. "Murder usually is."

Della raised her eyebrows and started to speak, but Diana's cheerful voice  
interrupted her.

"Perry!" She walked over to where he and Della stood at the bar. "Where have you  
been? You owe me a couple of dances and I simply won't take no for answer."  
Then, casting her gaze upon Della, she smiled and added, "Thank you again Miss  
Street for accepting my apology about how I behaved earlier. I'm so glad we were  
able to iron everything out."

"Yes, dear. I'm glad we had a chance to visit with one another and get  
everything straightened out too." Della smiled sweetly, remembering Raylynn's  
warning from earlier.

"So you did go and apologize, Diana. Good for you." Perry smiled at her.

"I'm a woman of my word," Diana beamed back at him. "Miss Street and I have a  
much better understanding of one another now, isn't that right?"

"We certainly do." Della replied. She took another sip of her drink. "Well  
Perry, are you going to dance with her or not?"

Diana's face registered shock at Della's suggestion. She could have sworn, based  
upon their serious expressions when she approached, that Della was making some  
jealous comments about her already. After all, Perry returned mere minutes after  
she'd left the ladies room. Her cheeks were still a little flushed.

Perry politely extended his hand, "Shall we?"

Diana flashed him a brilliant smile and said, "Most definitely."

Della watched them move to the dance floor. She turned and winked at the  
bartender before heading back to she and Perry's table. While Diana and Perry  
danced through three songs, Della, Raylynn, and Lucinda made polite conversation  
with several of Raylynn's friends who'd changed seats to join them. Delmar and  
Randall were nowhere to be found.

********************************************************************************\

Perry and Diana returned to the table, laughing and out of breath. "Come on  
Perry! Are you sure you won't dance one more? I love this song." Diana offered  
him a little pout and wrapped her arms around his left arm.

"Definintely not. I need a break after that last number." With no vacant seats  
next to Della, he sat down across the table …Diana cut her eyes at Della…a move  
not lost on Raylynn…and stood behind Perry's seat with her hands resting on his  
shoulders. Perry gave Della a quick smile. Raylynn started to speak but was  
interrupted by the elderly bartender.

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Mason?" the bartender asked.

"Yes, I am." Perry replied.

"A Mr. Paul Drake phoned looking for you. I didn't want to interrupt you on the  
dance floor so I took a message instead."

"What was the message?" Della asked, standing up and moving around the table  
towards Perry and the bartender.

"He said he hit a break in the Eleanor Corbin a.k.a. Eleanor Hepner case and  
needs you or a Miss Street to phone him immediately."

"Eleanor Corbin?" Perry asked with great surprise. He looked up at Della.

"Well, I'm Miss Street. Did he leave a number where he can be reached?" Della  
asked, ignoring the broad smile slowly spreading across Perry's face.

"No," replied the bartender. "He said either of you could just call his service  
and they'd patch the call through to him."

"Perry…why don't you stay down here and enjoy the party a little while longer.  
I'll go up to my room and see if I can reach Paul." Looking over at Raylynn,  
Della asked, "Is there a separate private line in the lavender room?"

"Oh yes, Della. You should be fine." Raylynn replied.

At hearing the words `lavender room,' Diana's eyes snapped from admiring Perry  
to looking at Della. "Did you say you're staying in the lavender room? Doesn't  
that room have an adjoin…"

"Why yes, Diana. It does have adjoining rooms…and it's absolutely beautiful…lots  
of space and privacy." Della smiled at Diana.  
Now chuckling to himself, Perry looked up at Della and asked, "I would really  
like to know exactly what it is Paul found…surely not another glamorous dancing  
ghost in the moonlight? Maybe I should come up and we'll make the call  
together." Perry's eyes sparkled as he said these words and Della could not  
contain her laughter as she answered him.

"It does sound intriguing, doesn't it?" she asked and Perry only grinned in  
return.

"But Perry, we've never had a chance to continue our discussion from earlier.  
Are you sure the call can't wait until tomorrow?" Diana asked as she massaged  
his shoulders.

"No, it can't. I'm sorry, Diana." Perry took her hands off his shoulders and  
stood up. "If we don't make it back down in time to bid you goodbye, it was nice  
seeing you again Lucinda. Raylynn…tell Randall I'll talk with him tomorrow."

Perry then turned to face Diana. "Have a nice evening and thank you for the  
dances, Diana." Perry extended his hand to her, but she instead embraced him for  
a goodnight hug. As she did so, she whispered in his ear, "What room are you in?  
Perhaps I could come up later and we could talk more." Raylynn was able to read  
her lips enough to get what she was asking and rolled her eyes as she took a  
drink.

Perry shook his head. "I'm sorry, but that isn't possible." He smiled one more  
time at everyone then turned to take Della by the elbow. "Goodnight everyone,"  
Della said as she walked away with Perry.

Diana dropped into a chair with a disgusted look on her face.

With great satisfaction, Raylynn looked at Diana and said, "I'll tell you what  
room he's in if you want to go up later."

Diana's eyes brightened.

Raylynn stood up, walked around to her, and whispered, "He's in the lavender  
room." Diana's face flooded red with anger as she looked into Raylynn's eyes.  
Raylynn smiled smugly and walked away.

"I would love to be a fly on the wall of the room when they make that call to  
Paul Drake," one of the women commented to Diana after Raylynn left.

"Why's that?" Diana asked angrily.

"Well, I follow all of his higher profile cases and the Eleanor Corbin/Eleanor  
Hepner case may have taken place many years ago, but it's still fascinating. His  
client was found dancing in a park, half naked in the moonlight. The man she  
claimed was her husband was later found murdered not far from where she was  
found traipsing around in a sheer white gown. I just wonder what could have  
happened after all these years…like is she is trouble again?"

A picture of Della standing at the bar talking to the bartender after she left  
the ladies room flooded Diana's mind. Anger welled up in her, "You say that case  
took place years ago?"

The woman nodded `yes' and looked confused when Diana jumped out of the chair  
and stomped off towards the bar.

"I wonder what's got into her?" the woman said to Lucinda. Lucinda just shrugged  
her shoulders.

Diana reached the bar and hailed the bartender over to her.

"What can I get you Miss?" he asked politely.

"Information," she replied.

"Oh…what kind of information?" He gave her a large grin.

"Did Mr. Mason really receive a call from a Mr. Paul Drake and did he leave that  
message you read off at the table?"

"Nah…his lady friend told me she had a surprise for him upstairs and she needed  
to get him up there without making him suspicious. I'm an old romantic at heart  
so, when she asked me to deliver the message, I agreed."

Diana slammed her fists on top of the bar, unable to contain her anger. She then  
stormed out of the dining room through the side French doors leading to the  
garden.

********************************************************************************\

Neither Perry nor Della spoke as they made their way upstairs. Perry unlocked  
Della's door. Before she walked in, he cleared his throat. "When would you like  
to call Paul?"

Casting him a seductive glance over her shoulder, she replied, "Give me about  
ten minutes. I'll leave the bathroom door unlocked for you."

He dropped his lips to her shoulder and held them there for a few seconds before  
breathing in the scent of her skin. "Ten minutes," he said huskily as he moved  
away from her and to the door of his bedroom.

********************************************************************************\

Ten minutes later, Perry, wearing his pajamas, opened the bathroom door and  
entered Della Street's adjoining bedroom. The lights of the room had been dimmed  
and more than a dozen candles had been lit around the room. When he saw Della,  
he had to catch his breath. She wore a sheer, soft pink nightgown no longer than  
a pajama top.

"I take it there was no phone call from Paul?" he asked, trying to be serious.

"No…I just wanted to get you to myself and didn't feel like waiting for the  
party to end. As you may recall, I did say it would take something drastic to  
get us out of there."

Perry moved towards her and wrapped his arms around her body. "I think I know  
the answer to this next question," he said, "but just humor me. Why did you pick  
the Eleanor Corbin/Hepner case as your bait?"

"Well…" she drawled out. "The case is obviously old enough that you'd know it  
was a set up because Paul's not still working on it…and I knew I had this little  
number waiting in my suitcase. Remember what you said about brevity being the  
soul of wit…you know, when we went through Eleanor's suitcase and found she had  
a nightgown no longer than this one?"

Perry laughed. "I remember. You were holding the gown up to you. You replied,  
"You couldn't ask for anything wittier than this then.""

"And you said we live and learn," Della replied, kissing his neck.

"When you held it up to you, all I was really thinking was how to get you into  
something just like it." He said, running his hands up and down her back.

"And now…here I am." She stopped kissing his neck and looked into his eyes.

"Yes," he said softly, "here you are." Perry brought his lips down to hers. When  
he released her, she walked around the room blowing out each candle while he  
turned back the covers of the bed and took off his pajamas. As she blew the last  
candle out, the distant storms they'd observed while in the garden announced  
their arrival with a bolt of lightning and roaring thunder. Perry reached out,  
took her by the waist and pulled her down on top of him as the sound of rain  
began to beat against the metal roof.

********************************************

Della lay in bed…listening to the rain beating against the roof and the  
crackling of lightening as it lit up the sky. Perry had fallen asleep quickly  
after their lovemaking, but she'd gotten up, redressed, and stared out the  
window a while before rejoining him. The sound of his deep breathing pleased  
her since she knew he'd not slept well without her the night before. As she'd  
climbed back into bed, Perry turned on his side and pulled her to him…her back  
to his chest…his left arm wrapped around her… his right arm tucked under his  
pillow. He'd murmured, "I love you," as he kissed the back of her shoulder and  
she felt his body completely relax as he drifted into a deeper sleep. Although  
drowsy, Della's mind was preoccupied with Diana. Certainly Diana was not the  
first woman to take a keen interest in Perry, but she was definitely the most  
brazen in her approach…and that was the problem. Diana was the first woman to  
ever openly challenge her for Perry's affections and her attack was so  
devious…so underhanded…the nerve of her to bring up the Harry Marlow incident…to  
insinuate Perry had guilted himself into loving her. Della's cheeks flushed as  
she thought of the triteness on Diana's comments. `I went and got myself  
kidnapped?' she thought to herself as a bolt of lightening flashed across the  
sky. Della closed her eyes and replayed the events of the shooting…in reality,  
it all happened so quickly, but, in her mind, it played like a slow motion movie  
reel…or an old Charlie Chaplin picture show. She'd never forget Perry's words  
as he begged her to hold on…to live and he told her he loved her. A tear rolled  
down Della's cheek and she wiped it away. No…there was no doubt in her mind that  
Perry loved her…only her. Diana didn't stand a chance of taking him away from  
her, but it was the unconscionable way in which she'd attacked her that bothered  
Della the most. What kind of person takes the near death experience of another  
human being and turns it against her as if it was insignificant or even her own  
fault? `Raylynn was right,' Della thought as she pulled Perry's arm more tightly  
around her, `this girl is dangerous.'

Della closed her eyes and focused on the sound of Perry's breathing. She closed  
her eyes and was about to drift off to sleep when a loud banging in the hallway  
jarred her awake. First, the banging sounded like it was next door. Then, her  
bedroom door rattled with the sounds of someone's palms being slapped against  
it. She heard a woman's voice half crying/half screaming, "Perry! Please! I know  
you're here somewhere! Help me! Please! Where are you? Help me!" The sound then  
moved back to the door of Perry's adjacent bedroom.

Della threw off Perry's arm, causing him to wake up. She jumped out of bed,  
grabbed the matching robe to her nightgown, and rounded the corner in the  
direction of the woman's sounds. As she did so, Perry, who was still half  
asleep, sat up, trying to focus on the movement of her dark silhouette as she  
moved across the room. Della opened her bedroom door and light flooded in from  
the hallway. There, collapsed against the wall between the two doors leading to  
the lavender rooms, she found Diana. She was soaking wet. Her dress was torn and  
had a mixture of blood and mud all over it. She was missing her shoes and her  
stockings were torn and also muddy. Diana's eyes were red and swollen from  
crying and her eye makeup smeared. She looked up at Della, said nothing and  
crawled towards Perry's bedroom door. Everything about Diana's vacant look  
reminded Della of the night she awoke in Harry Marlow's bedroom after having  
been attacked in the law office. Her heart lept into her throat.

She rushed back into the bedroom and flipped on the light. Perry swung his legs  
over the side of the bed and watched as Della flew past him and into the  
bathroom. She came back out just as quickly with two towels and his robe in her  
arms.

"Della? What the devil is going on?"

She tossed him his robe. "Put this on and go open your bedroom door quickly.  
Something's happened to Diana!" Della replied urgently. Della ran out the door  
of the bedroom and found Diana sitting on the floor outside Perry's door. She  
was unenergetically slapping the door with the palm of her hand and begging for  
Perry to let her inside. Della moved to her and wrapped one of the towels around  
her shoulders. "There, there dear," she said soothingly, "Perry's coming. I just  
woke him up, okay?"

Diana looked at her absently and shook her head. With the other towel, Della  
began cleaning the mud and smeared make up from Diana's face. Just as she  
started to wipe the mud and blood from Diana's hands and arms, Perry swung open  
his bedroom door. As he looked down, his eyes made contact with Diana's and she  
let out this gut-wrenching sob. Della moved back and Perry picked the young  
woman up and carried her into his bedroom with Della quickly on his heels. Perry  
laid her down on his bed as Della grabbed a light blanker from the quilt rack  
and draped it over her.

"Diana? What happened?" Perry stroked her hair back from her face while Della  
watched the young woman intently…the same nauseous feeling she had after Harry  
Marlow assaulted her… overtaking her senses. She placed a steadying hand on  
Perry's shoulder then sat down in a chair a few feet away from the bed.

Diana sat up abruptly and threw her arms around Perry's neck. He patted her back  
then disengaged her arms from his neck. He placed his hands on either side of  
her face and forced her to look into his eyes. "Diana…you're safe now. Tell us  
what happened so we can help you."

"After you and Miss Street left the dance and went upstairs to return your phone  
call, I went out for a walk in the garden. It wasn't much fun staying at the  
dance once you'd left so I thought maybe a walk would be nice. Raylynn's garden  
is beautiful and it seemed like a nice way to pass the time until my parents  
were ready to leave. But I ventured out to far from the house and got caught in  
the storm. I raced back towards the house and …" Diana broke into a fit of  
sobbing, and again threw her arms around Perry.

Perry glanced at Della who gave him a concerned look and then leaned down to  
pick up the towel and blanket which had fallen off Diana as she flung herself  
into Perry. Della placed the dry blanket over Diana's shoulders and then sat  
down behind Perry on the bed. Diana shot a hateful look at her over Perry's  
shoulder, which Della ignored. "What happened in the garden, Diana?" Della  
asked.

"I found Adam floating face down in the pond …dead."

Perry shuddered and pushed Diana away from him so he could look her squarely in  
the eyes. His expression, hard as granite, masked the flood of emotions that had  
started churning inside him. "What do mean he's dead, Diana? Are you positive?"

"Oh yes…I jumped in the pond after him, turned him over, and pulled him across  
the water. I lost my shoes in the process. They're somewhere out by the pond…or  
maybe near his body. It just happened so fast. I saw the body and naturally  
jumped in after it. Only when I turned it over did I see that it was Adam. It  
took every ounce of strength I had to pull him over to the edge and get him over  
the side of the rocks."

"Did you call for help? Did you go find Randall or your parents?" Perry asked  
urgently.

"Goodness no, Perry. He's dead. What good would that do? All I could think was  
getting up here to you. I ran through the rain, around the back of the house,  
and came up the back stairway. No one saw me."

"Who cares whether anyone saw you or not!?" Perry lashed out. "He's still down  
there? You just left him lying out in the rain and ran straight up here to me?  
Why would you do that?" Perry stood up abruptly and ran his fingers through his  
hair and then over his eyes. He turned, grabbed her by the shoulders, and asked,  
"Did you kill him?"

"No, no, no," Diana sobbed. "I didn't kill him."

Perry released his grip and looked at Della who had remained a quiet witness to  
the entire exchange. "I need to get to the garden and take a look around."

Della nodded. Perry grabbed his clothes which he'd draped across a chair before  
changing and joining Della earlier and headed towards the bathroom door. "I'm  
gonna change quickly and head down. Give me five minutes to look around and then  
call the sheriff. Hand the phone to Diana and have her make the report. When she  
hangs up, call Paul and tell him I want him out here immediately." With that,  
Perry slammed the bathroom door behind him and left Della and Diana  
uncomfortably alone together in his room…Della timing out five minutes on a  
clock…Diana quietly contemplating Perry's neatly made up bed.

TCOT Burning Body ~ The Morning After Murder

The early morning sunlight was brilliant as it penetrated the window coverings  
of the lavender room. The storms from only hours before were now a memory. Della  
awoke and brought her hands up to cover her face. She turned away from the  
brightness of the windows, but found herself alone. She looked over at Perry's  
vacant pillow and saw a folded note. She reached over and picked it up.

"Couldn't sleep. Meet me at the pergola when you get this. Perry."

She let out a deep sigh and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was only 7  
A.M. `How long has he been out there?' she wondered. She knew Adam's death  
knocked the wind out of him. She'd seen that look before like when one of their  
friends committed suicide over some pictures printed in a magazine rag. Perry

had said little to her once the sheriff had arrived other than to ask if she'd  
reached Paul on the phone and to inquire when he thought he could catch a plane  
to Texas. Dealing with the murder of a stranger was one thing, but Perry had  
enjoyed a close relationship with Adam since he was a teen. Watching him last  
night, as the sheriff's department taped off the crime scene and removed Adam's body, had  
broken her heart. He was ghostly pale…his face expressionless…his growing  
fatigue showing in his posture, but his eyes? They told a completely different  
story. Where a sort of vacant look had overtaken Randall upon seeing Adam's  
body, Perry's eyes were constantly surveying the house and its occupants as  
police led them one by one into separate rooms to give their statements.

Della rubbed the temples of her head and thought back to those interminably  
long five minutes she spent alone with Diana while waiting to call the sheriff.

No sooner had Perry closed the door then Diana started in on her. Diana had  
risen, gone to the dresser mirror, and used her fingers to straighten out her  
hair. Then, she'd taken a silent moment to clean up her makeup, straighten her  
dress as best she could and remove and throw away her torn stockings. As she  
returned to her seat, she'd trailed her fingers across the coolness of the soft  
bedspread and sighed.

"That was a fine little trick you pulled off tonight. To think … I would be in  
this bed right now, all warm and safe, instead of stumbling across dead bodies  
in the rain…why it makes me sick. The things I could have done to that man."  
Diana ran her fingers back across the bedspread, raised her eyebrow slightly,  
and met Della's eyes challengingly before turning and going back to stand in  
front of the mirror.

Della's felt her cheeks turn hot, but kept her composure and replied with little  
emotion. "I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean."

"You don't know what I mean? You don't know what things I'd have done to him in  
that very bed…our bodies tangled together?" Diana laughed as she turned to face  
Della. Della cut her eyes at her and glanced at the clock.

"No…you look like you've been around the block a few times, Miss Street and you  
know exactly which trick I'm referring to… getting the bartender to deliver a  
phony phone message to the table so you could get Perry up here to yourself…and  
away from me," Diana responded maliciously.

Della could not contain the soft smile that formed on her lips. "I was just  
`leading him where he already wanted to go,' to quote your own words from  
earlier in the evening."

Diana marched towards the bed, sat down, scooted to the edge of and leaned in  
dangerously close to Della. `I thought I made myself perfectly clear when I told  
you to step aside or I would run you out of Los Angeles once I had Perry."

"I understood everything you said…perfectly," Della accentuated the last word,  
never losing her composure, "and I think the bartender already delivered my  
answer."

Diana smiled. She reached across and rubbed the soft hem of Della's robe between  
her fingers. Then, she looked directly at Della…the coldness in her eyes sending  
a shiver down Della's spine.

"You have no idea how far I'll go to get him."

"Would you go as far as murder?" Della asked, her eyes equally cold, her voice  
almost a whisper. "You don't think I believe for one minute you jumped into that  
pond…got yourself all muddied up and pulled Adam out in an effort to save him?"

"Maybe," Diana responded. "But what you think isn't important Miss Street. You  
saw how Perry scooped me up and carried me into this room…the concern was etched  
all over his face…concern for me…not you…me. I'd say jumping in the pond and  
getting all `muddied up' as you put it so eloquently paid off quite well. Adam  
was already lying on the ground when I found him."

"You can't outsmart Perry with that story Diana. He'll see right through you. You  
are as transparent as a ghost." Della stated with measured contempt.

"But I did outsmart him…he fell for it hook, line, and sinker. The question you  
have to ask yourself, Miss Street …" Diana moved so closely to her that her  
breath was hot on Della's skin, "is this: Was Adam dying or already dead when I  
found him and … could the same thing happen to you?"

Della's mouth slightly dropped open at hearing the leveled threat. Leaning into Diana, she replied, "Your threats don't scare me, young lady." Without breaking eye contact, Della reached for the telephone. Diana snatched it away from her, dialed the operator, broke into tears, and begged for a connection to the sheriff's department…sobbing she'd just found a dead body at her uncle's home.

Della stayed in bed a few minutes longer … the confrontation with Diana playing  
out in her mind several more times. `How much of it, if any, should I tell  
Perry?' she thought as she rolled over and pulled Perry's pillow close to her  
body…breathing in the faint traces of aftershave and hair tonic left behind from  
the previous evening. Finally, forcing herself out of the empty bed, she moved  
to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and relished the feel of the hot water as  
it soaked her hair and ran soothingly down her back. She and Perry had a long  
day ahead of them and she was anxious to meet him at the pergola. With any luck, Paul would arrive in a few hours. "Mnnnn…the pergola…" she smiled sadly. How strange a place that offered such a pleasurable retreat to them the night before had now become a meeting place to discuss murder.

Paul Drake peeled down the exit off Interstate 35 much faster than he'd intended  
and was thankful for the absence of any patrolmen in the area. Della's phone  
call had shaken him for several reasons. First, the news of Adam's murder…he  
really liked the young man he'd first met on a fishing trip with Perry. Adam was  
a teen at the time and Paul reveled in the attention the boy had given him when  
he found out he was a war veteran and a private investigator. In fact, Adam was  
so very personable, Paul didn't mind at all that the constant chatter probably  
scared away any fish within a 500 foot radius of their boat.

Second, Della's voice sounded strained when they spoke on the phone.

"It's possible she's just worried about Perry," Paul thought as he looked up in  
time to see the green light go straight to red. He slammed on the brakes and  
looked over at the blazing Texas sun already making an indelible imprint on the  
day. Through the years, Paul Drake had developed an uncanny knack for reading  
people. It was the mark of any private investigator worth his salt. "No," he  
said aloud…shaking his head as the red light changed to green. Something or  
someone else was definitely bothering Della.

Finally, he would see Raylynn again. "After all these years," he muttered under  
his breath. Paul snagged a cigarette from his jacket and placed it between his  
lips without lighting it. He'd always viewed Raylynn as "the one that got away."  
She was beautiful and charming and he had been young and stupid. It was only  
after they'd parted and she'd fallen for Randall that Paul realized what he had  
lost in this woman.

Before he knew it, he reached the turn that would take him down the long winding  
drive of the White Estate and Rabroker farm. The drive was lined with white and  
pink crepe myrtles whose blooms were beginning to fade under the heat of the  
late Indian summer. White stones and rocks, bleached from years of exposure to  
the hot Texas sun, were stacked as edging around each crepe myrtle … the heavy  
perfume of their flowers mixed with the distinct smell of the cedar mulch  
protecting their bases. Paul tossed the chewed up cigarette out the window…the  
sweetness of the air unable to erase the sense of foreboding slowly overtaking  
his normally cool and collected demeanor.

Pulling into the half circle turn around drive to the home, Paul saw Della  
hurrying down a winding cobblestone path that led from some gardens off the side  
of the home to the front drive. Her hair was disheveled and the sleeve of her  
cardigan ripped … her pants muddy on the knees. Paul accelerated, slammed on  
the brakes, and jumped out of the car…running towards her. She paused and smiled  
weakly upon seeing him.

"Hey Doll…I left as soon as you called. What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yes…yes…I'm fine Paul. I trust you had a good flight?"

Paul ignored the question. Della looked over her shoulder towards the garden.  
"Can we get out of here for a while…maybe just drive around the grounds or out  
in the countryside?"

"Yeah…sure…whatever you say, but where's Perry?" Paul looked over at the garden  
hoping to see whatever it was Della was staring at so intently.

"I don't know. He left me a note asking me to meet him out in the garden this  
morning, but he wasn't there when I arrived. I was on my way back to the house  
to look for him when I saw your car coming down the drive."

Looking her over, Paul replied, "Well, maybe we should go in together instead  
of…"

Della interrupted him, "No…no Paul…I'd rather not. Let's just take that drive.  
I'll fill you in on what's happened so far and then we can get to work."

"You gonna tell me what happened to your clothes and hair?" Paul raised an  
eyebrow as their eyes met.

"No." She stated firmly.

"No?" Paul questioned taking her gently by the arm and leading her to the car.

"No." Della answered again.

"Alright Beautiful…have it your way." Paul opened the car door and Della slid  
across the seat. When he shut the door and turned, he saw a beautiful young  
woman…clothes drenched in water…sprinting across the garden towards some side  
French doors. "What the hell?" Paul muttered as he watched her disappear inside.

From an upstairs window at the Rabroker's old farmhouse, a shadowy figured watched the scene unfolding below and then disappeared into the darkness.

The Texas sun beat down upon the blacktop farm to market road as Paul and Della  
rode, in silence, up and down the twisting path… visible bands of wavy heat  
reflecting back off the asphalt. Paul spotted a road side rest stop and pulled  
the sedan over to rest under the shade of a large pecan tree.

"How long you wanna stay gone, Beautiful?" he asked without turning to face her.

"Not too long. Perry will start to wonder where I am…and he will start to wonder  
why you haven't arrived yet."

Della stared intently out the window for a moment. Letting out a long, measured  
breath, she turned to face him "Might as well be productive while we're here.  
Like I explained on the phone…Perry and I came out here to support Randall's  
appointment to Attorney General and his announcement that he will run for  
Attorney General of the State of Texas in the spring. On the plane, we read a  
very disturbing letter to the editor in the newspaper. It was from one Samuel  
Carr Jr. He accused Randall of allowing his father, Sam Sr., to be lynched by an  
angry mob in retaliation for his alleged killing of Adam's parents, Lucas and  
Cleta Rabroker as well the murder of his sister, Lauralynn Rabroker. Sam Jr.  
claims his father did not commit the murders…claims it was a complete  
miscarriage of justice and that Randall has no right to be Attorney General  
because he allowed it all to happen... even accuses him of participating in the  
lynching. As you can imagine, this letter has caused a huge stir. Adam and Sam  
Jr., whom you may recall is his childhood friend, got into a fight over it.  
Perry and I overheard another fight between Sam Jr., his mother, Lottie, Adam,  
and Randall when we were in the garden during the party and Perry overheard a  
fight between Randall and Adam in which Adam later admitted he accused Randall  
of killing his family and trying to steal their fortune."

"Good grief Della…" Paul stated in disbelief.

"I know…I know… Perry needs background information on everyone in the house,  
Paul: Randall, Raylynn, their niece, Diana White, her parents, Delmar and  
Lucinda White, the live in servants…there's a butler, a maid, and a gardener.  
You might as well get a man started on Sam Jr. and his mother too."

Paul pulled his notebook out of his jacket which had been draped across the seat  
since he'd rented the vehicle.

"Pay very close attention to Diana White, Paul, because she's the main suspect  
in the case. She supposedly found Adam's body floating in the pond and the two of them had  
a very rocky…tumultuous relationship according to Perry. They even had a  
physical altercation at the party in which Perry said Adam got pretty banged  
up."

"Supposedly?" Paul raised a questioning eyebrow.

"She's lying about pulling Adam's body from the pond. Don't ask me how I know."

" Okay Doll…got it…anything else?" Paul asked.

"Yes…when the sheriff was taking away Adam's body, Perry said something about a flood at the courthouse a number of years ago but, if possible  
and if he's still alive, we need to track down the coroner in charge of the  
autopsies on Samuel Carter Sr., Lauralynn White, and her parents. We also need  
information from law enforcement…find who's still alive from the original  
investigation into the murders of the White family, and, while I'm thinking  
about it, get someone started on locating a Ms. Dessie Reed. When Perry and I  
overheard the argument in the garden, Lottie Carter claimed she overheard a phone  
conversation between Lauralynn and Dessie Reed. Randall told Lottie he never knew anyone at U.T. by  
that name and never cheated on Lauralynn."

"Wait a second…I thought we were investigating the murder of Adam Rabroker?"  
Paul inquired.

"We are Paul, but Adam told Perry he thought Randall murdered his family and he  
wanted Perry to prove him wrong. Perry loves Randall and he loved Adam. He will  
want to solve both murders if I know him. He will want to prove Randall innocent  
as well as find out why Adam was killed. For all we know … the same person could  
be responsible for all the murders…then and now."

Paul raised another eyebrow and looked at her. "Wouldn't that be something?"

"Yes, it most certainly would," she replied.

"Now…how `bout you tell me what happened to you in that garden?"

The look Della shot him caused him to immediately pop the gear into drive and  
head back towards the White Estate.

************************************************************


	7. Chapter 7

Perry paced back and forth across the large wrap around porch which encompassed  
the home of Randall and Raylynn White. He took out a white handkerchief from his  
pocket and wiped beads of sweat from his brow and the back of his neck. "Where  
the devil could Della and Paul have gone?" he muttered as he stopped at a  
banister and looked out across the grounds and down the long drive.

"Good Morning, Perry," a voice cooed from behind him. He turned around in time  
to see Diana Leigh White walk towards him…carefully balancing a tray of hot  
coffee, milk, sugar and a set of four coffee cups. He was amazed at how  
drastically her demeanor and appearance had changed in the thirty minutes since  
he observed she and Della, both disheveled, hurriedly leave the garden…Della  
hopping in the car with Paul and Diana running into the house through a side  
door.

"Care to join me for some coffee? I'm dreadfully tired after the goings on from  
last night. I just can't believe Adam's really gone. Sure he and I fought like  
cats and dogs, but I never would have wanted anything like this to happen to  
him…I tried so hard to get him out of that pond… to save him, but I wasn't  
strong enough…." Her voice trailed off and her eyes welled with tears.  
Controlling his anger, Perry walked over to her, took the tray, and set it down  
on a table. Then, he took her by the hand and led her over to the small wicker  
loveseat in front of the table. He tilted her chin up and she looked into his  
eyes through heavily lashed lids.

"Diana…you told me last night you pulled Adam out of the pond."

"That's right, I did…I meant I tried so very hard to save him once I got him out." She looked innocently into Perry's eyes.

"Are you sure Adam was already dead when you found him?" Perry asked  
quietly.

"Yes…yes…" she choked out as she scooted closer to him.

"I don't know Diana…something doesn't add up so I ask you again:Was Adam in or out of the pond when you found him? Think very carefully."  
Perry's piercing blue eyes never moved away from hers.

"I didn't kill him Perry…I didn't," she sobbed…pulling her chin away from his  
touch and burying her face in her hands as she doubled over at the waist.

"Listen to me Diana…last night you told Della and I that you found Adam floating  
face down in the pond…that you jumped in after him…and then pulled him out. So,  
which is it…was he in or out of the pond when you found him? Are you sure he was  
dead?"

"I don't know…I don't know…." She sat boldly up and looked o

off into the  
distance. "Wait…yes…yes…he was in the pond and I jumped in to save him. I pulled  
him out of the pond…oh I know it sounds incredible, but I am quite strong and  
I've heard of people getting super strength…you know…extra strength they don't  
ordinarily have…in times of crisis. I pulled him out of the pond and I lost my  
shoes in the process." Diana gave Perry a pleading look. "Oh Perry…you just have  
to believe me… you just have to…please say you'll defend me…take care of me…just  
make this all go away!"

"An arrest warrant hasn't been issued for you … no one's even accused you,  
Diana."

"Oh Perry…Perry…Perry…" she sobbed loudly, "I need you." She then threw her arms  
around his neck in a passionate embrace. Before he could disengage himself, he  
looked up to see Paul and Della standing on the top steps of the porch. When his  
eyes met Della's, she looked away….waited a moment … and then calmly entered the  
White home without saying a word to him. Paul followed in dumbfounded silence.

As he closed the door behind him, Paul leaned closely into Della and whispered,  
"What is that all about?"

With a raised eyebrow, Della looked up at him, but did not reply.

******************************************

"Della? What on earth happened to you?" Della turned to find Raylynn White …  
pale, tired, her eyes slightly swollen from crying and the late night before,  
walking towards she and Paul from across the front foyer. She was followed by  
her steadfast butler, Kipsey.

"Nothing worth mentioning," Della replied cheerfully. "Just a little clumsiness  
on my part."

"My goodness Sugar…you look like you got rolled across the garden grounds. Are  
you okay?" Raylynn asked as she took Della by the shoulders and carefully turned  
her in a circle so she could get a better look.

"I'm fine Raylynn, really. It's nothing that soap, water, and a sewing needle  
can't fix. Did you manage to get tonight's announcement party canceled?"

"Yes…yes…"

Paul cleared his throat. "I'm sorry Raylynn, but I believe you  
already know Mr. Paul Drake. He arrived a little while ago."

Raylynn smiled brilliantly, clasped Paul's hands, and reached up to kiss him on  
the cheek. "Of course Paul and I know each other. I didn't mean to ignore you,  
my dear, but Della's appearance did alarm me and I am quite fatigued from being on the phone all morning."

"No offense taken Raylynn. It alarmed me too. How have you been?" he asked …a  
warm smile lighting up his face while, in his mind, flashes from the past played  
out as if on a movie screen: their introduction, their first kiss, she in the  
Hawaiian print dress she wore to a luau they once attended …her goodbye tears.

"Just wonderful," she responded. "My goodness, it has been a long time now,  
hasn't it?"

"Nearly eleven years," Paul replied softly.

"Eleven years …" Raylynn stared into Paul's eyes for a moment and Della suddenly  
felt as if she were intruding upon a private moment between the two of them.

"Well…if you'll excuse me…" Della started to speak, but was interrupted by the  
sound of the front door opening and Perry entering the home. Their eyes met  
again briefly and then she looked back at Paul and Raylynn. "I believe I will  
head upstairs and get into some fresh clothes before I have to get to work."

"Get to work?" Raylynn inquired with a puzzled expression. "What do you mean?"

Perry's voice answered the question as he headed towards the threesome. "She  
means we are going to investigate the circumstances surrounding Adam's death  
and, if Diana is charged as I believe she will be, we will then stay and act as  
her defense team."

"Oh…I see, Perry. I didn't realize Delmar had retained you." Raylynn replied.

"He hasn't…Diana retained me."

Raylynn glanced at Della and said, "Well then…she is good hands."

"The absolute best," a voice called from the door. Everyone turned to see Diana  
enter into the foyer. Now seeing her from the front, Paul was surprised to find  
that, the same young woman clinging to Perry on the front porch, was also the  
same woman he'd seen fleeing the garden earlier after he'd picked up Della.  
Diana glided over to Perry and placed her hand upon his arm, "and thank you  
again Perry. I feel so much better knowing I have you on my side …"

"Well," Della said with a soft smile, "as I was saying to everyone, if you'll  
excuse me, I must be getting upstairs…"

"Oh my goodness, Miss Street!" Diana exclaimed…letting go of Perry's arm and  
crossing over to Della. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Keeping her composure, Della smiled sweetly. "Yes, Diana. I appreciate your  
concern but I'm perfectly fine…just a silly little tumble in the garden…and it  
takes a lot more than that to get the best of me."

Hearing the edge in Della's voice, Raylynn raised an eyebrow and looked from  
woman to woman…waiting to see what would be said next.

Diana feigned an overly sympathetic smile, embraced Della quickly and returned  
to Perry, who had his eyes fixed only upon Della. "Isn't she wonderful Perry?  
Such spirit! I just know everything is going to turn out well with both of you  
on my case."

Della nodded politely, her cheeks flushed not from embarrassment, but from anger  
welling within her. Rather than reply, she bit her lip and turned to head  
towards the stairs.

"I'll be working on your case too," Paul jumped in with a smile. "My name is  
Paul Drake and I'm a private investigator." Diana smiled and held her hand out  
to Paul. Perry noted how she didn't hold it out to be kissed as she had done  
with him the previous night, but, instead, shook hands Paul's hand.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Drake."

"Yes, Diana. Della called Mr. Drake while you and I gave your statement to the  
police. He works on almost all our cases back in Los Angeles. He is definitely  
the best in his field." Although speaking to Diana, Perry's eyes continued to  
follow Della's form as she ascended the staircase.

"I would expect nothing less when it comes to those who work with you,  
Perry."Diana gazed up at Perry and placed her hand back on his arm. Raylynn  
rolled her eyes just in time for Paul to see it and chuckle.

"Now if you'll excuse me for a while, I need to make some calls…Paul?"

Paul coughed to mask his laugh. "Yeah Perry?"

"I will meet you in the library in half an hour."

"Sure thing." Paul replied.

Walking away, Perry overheard Raylynn tell Kipsey to take Mr. Drake's bags  
upstairs while the two of them took a walk out in the garden to catch up on old  
times. Perry hoped the walk would take them past the crime scene so Paul could  
get a first hand look at things…maybe see something the police might have missed  
in their investigation. In the meantime, he planned to confront Della and find  
out exactly what transpired between she and Diana in the garden.

Walking down the cobblestone path, Raylynn White and Paul Drake talked and  
laughed as they remembered old times. The fragrances of the many plants and  
bushes in the garden … mixed together with the beautiful singing of  
whippoorwills, robins, and the steady hum of humming birds… filled Paul's senses  
until he was unclear whether it was nature or the beauty and laughter of the  
woman by his side which made him feel so utterly intoxicated. They spotted a  
small park bench under a shade tree and sat down. Across from them, a woodpecker  
busied himself on a poplar tree while another bird splashed in a  
birdbath…oblivious to his delighted observers.

"You seem genuinely happy, Raylynn. I'm glad for you," Paul said after a few  
moments of silence. The bird flittered away at the sound of his voice.

"Overall…yes, I'm happy Paul." Raylynn looked down at her wedding band and moved  
it in circles around her finger.

"I was an idiot, Raylynn…cocky, immature…"

"Yes, you were…" she interrupted softly, "but you hadn't been home from the War  
all that long and I knew you were looking for a good time…not a commitment…as I  
was."

"It started out that way … my looking to have a good time…I wanted to forget  
what I'd seen…things I'd done… even though those things were in defense of my  
country. It was only after I'd let you go and Randall had stolen your heart that  
I realized what I'd lost. Then, I spent a long time languishing in self pity."  
Paul reached over and placed his hand over hers. She looked up at him and  
smiled.

"You forgive me?" he asked.

"I forgave you a long time ago," she replied.

"Thank you," he said…leaning over and gently kissing her cheek. They sat in  
silence for a few more minutes…enjoying the summer day around them…until Paul  
noticed the mistiness in Raylynn's eyes. He looked at her questioningly. She  
took a deep breath and whispered, "I wish Randall would forgive himself."

"Forgive himself? For what?" Paul asked softly.

"I'm assuming you know the story of the Rabroker murders? Perry must have filled  
you in…either a long time ago when Adam stayed with him while Randall and I were  
on our honeymoon…if not…surely Della went over the history of the case with you  
when she phoned and requested you come out here?"

"Yes," Paul answered, "I know the history of the case. Randall still blames  
himself after all these years?"

Raylynn shook her head `yes.'

"He and Lauralynn fought the day of the murders. He regrets terribly that the  
last words ever spoken between them were in anger. He won't admit it, but I can  
tell he sometimes wonders if Samuel Carter Sr. really committed the murders…it's  
in the way he repeats the evidence against Sam back to himself every time the  
topic comes up. He lists the evidence against Sam out in order like he's marking  
exhibits for the prosecution. #1: Sam Sr. and Mr. Rabroker had a terrible fight  
the day of the murders. #2: Lottie Carter admits her husband left their house that  
night with the intention of heading back to the Rabroker farm. #3: Adam saw Sam  
Sr. running away from the scene of the crime when he peered out the window from  
his hiding place. #4: The angry mob found Sam in a deer stand...if he  
wasn't guilty...why was he hiding? #5: Lauralynn's engagement ring was found in  
his ashes after the lynching."

Raylynn turned her body to face Paul. "Do you have any idea how many times I've  
heard him recite that sequence over the past ten years?"

Paul placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It must be terrible watching  
someone you love be unable to let go of the past…of past mistakes."

"Oh Paul… I know Randall sees it as a miscarriage of justice that Sam Sr. was  
never put on trial…that it was mob mentality that tried him, found him guilty,  
and then pronounced and carried out the punishment…and I empathize with his  
rationalization that he caused it all with his grief stricken rantings over what  
Adam had seen." She paused to wipe away tears that now spilled from her eyes.  
Paul reached into his jacket and handed her a handkerchief.

"Thank you," she whispered. "It's just…my God, Paul…the murders were twenty  
years ago. Randall has bent over backwards trying to make amends. He found in  
some old paperwork in his father's law office that Mr. Rabroker had been giving  
supplemental monies to the Carters for a period of five years, starting shortly  
after Sam Jr. was born and Lottie couldn't work for a long time, due to her  
Caesarean birth…well…Randall continued that money after the murders. He also  
bought Lottie the home she lives in and he paid for Sam Jr.'s college  
education."

"Is that a fact?" Paul replied with great interest.

"I wish Randall would just take all those old papers and burn them. Maybe if he  
did, the past would burn away with them and set him free. But, oh no, he keeps  
all that old stuff in the top dresser drawer in his bedroom along with old  
pictures of Lauralynn…pictures of the two of them together …the autopsy reports  
from the murders…including photos…it's morbid…obscene…" Her voice trailed off as  
she stared out into the garden behind Paul.

"Listen Raylynn … Della believes Perry plans to try and solve the murders from  
twenty years ago as well as Adam's murder." A look of shock registered on  
Raylynn's face. She started to speak, but Paul cut her off.

"I can't tell you anything more specific, but you could be a big help to me."

"How?" she asked…her shocked expression more pronounced than before.

"Can you get me into Randall's room or get that drawer for me…the one with all  
the old records? You never know what I may find and Della specifically asked me  
to get copies of the autopsy reports for Mr. and Mrs. Rabroker and Lauralynn."

"Yes…I can do that, Paul. Randall will be out most of tomorrow. You  
can go in there and get the drawer as soon as he leaves. Just make sure you put  
it back as you found it before he returns home."

"Will do, Sweetheart…now, let's get going so I can meet with Perry."

Paul stood up and held out his hand to Raylynn…pulling her gently up from the  
bench and never releasing his grip as they walked hand in hand down the  
cobblestone path back to the main house.

*************************************************************

Perry tapped lightly on Della's bedroom door…no answer. Perry tapped again  
only this time a little louder. Still, no one answered the door. He walked over  
to his bedroom door, opened it, and, upon entering, found Della Street talking  
busily on the telephone. She turned when she heard the door open and gave him a  
soft smile as she continued her conversation. He noticed she still wore the torn  
cardigan and muddied slacks.

"Yes, sir. That's right. 1 box of legal pads, 10 fountain pens, half black  
ink half red ink, 2 boxes of manila file folders, a small, portable locking  
file cabinet, and a copy machine. You don't have one for purchase? Do you have one we can borrow…perhaps rent? Wonderful. What's the total on that? That will fine. Yes, delivery would be very helpful. Thank you and thank you again for opening your store for us on a weekend. No I'm sure if the  
Sheriff found out you wouldn't be in trouble. Yes…yes I've heard of  
Blue Laws before. Is that a fact? My oh my…well Mr. Mason appreciates your  
help. Have a good day sir."

Della hung up the phone and leaned back against the large, cherry wood roll top  
desk. Perry walked over, sat on the edge of the bed, and clasped his hands in  
front of him.

"I phoned Harold Perry who happens to own Perry Office Products," Della  
said. "We met him last night at the party. Do you remember him? Randall uses  
his business for all his firm's office supplies and I figured he could get us  
started with what we'll need for this case. He's normally not open on  
Saturday and said I was lucky to catch him at home before he headed out fishing.  
Then, he asked me if we needed anything tomorrow because, under "The Blue  
Laws," he can't open his doors on Sunday or he'll be in trouble with the  
law."

"Ah yes… "the Blue don't have them in California, but they are  
very common in the South and the Midwestern states. A blue law is a type of law,  
typically found in the United States, designed to enforce religious standards,  
particularly the observance of Sunday as a day of worship or rest, and a  
restriction on Sunday shopping," Perry replied.

"We have them in Illinois too. Car sales are prohibited on Sundays. Horse  
racing is prohibited on Sundays unless authorized by the local municipality,"  
Della added…hoping Perry wouldn't ask her what was obviously on his mind.

"You don't have an opinion on my agreeing to defend Diana should she be  
accused of Adam's murder?" Perry asked seriously.

"I never said I didn't have an opinion." Della let out a measured sigh.

"You said nothing downstairs. Instead, you came up here and ordered office  
supplies…yet your facial expression, when I announced my intention just a  
moment ago, says little in the way of support." Perry's blue eyes pierced  
through her.

Cocking an eyebrow and crossing her arms, Della's voice was icy yet calm. "I  
don't tell you which cases to accept or which cases to turn down. That is your  
choice, Counselor. Getting overly involved is not part of my job."

Perry leaned back on the bed and looked at her defensive posture for a moment.  
"You don't have any input whatsoever into the cases I choose to defend? You  
don't get overly involved? Well…let's see…as I recall you've had much to  
say about a rather spoiled, sulky girl we defended…you did not like my  
having dinner with Fran Crelane after her dramatic physical transformation…you  
took a keen interest in Daniel Conway's love life…why he's getting married  
now because of your "noninvolvement" and I believe I've had to defend you  
once or twice on some matter involving a careless kitten as I recall?"

Perry's eyes twinkled as he waited for her response. Della looked at him for a  
moment and then laughed. "Okay, okay…maybe I do get involved here and there  
and have asked you more than a few times to listen to a client or take a case  
you may have ordinarily not wanted to be involved with, but I've never flat  
out told you "no" on a case."

Perry held out his hand to her. "You don't have to, my dear. You are a  
female and your facial expressions and mannerisms say more about what you want  
than any words coming out of your mouth." He pulled her down onto his  
lap. "And, for the record, I have turned down cases based upon those facial  
expressions and mannerisms."

"But not this one…because you want to find out who killed Adam and why."  
Della stated as she looped her fingers through his and looked into his eyes.

"That's right," Perry replied, "Otherwise, after the behavior I've  
seen from this young woman towards me, you, and especially Adam,I never  
would have agreed to take the case…and I knew you'd very likely understand  
that."

Della kissed his forehead and stood up. "I need to get changed. Paul will be  
expecting us downstairs very soon."

Perry reached out and grabbed her hand as she walked off towards the bathroom  
which adjoined their rooms. "Not yet. I want you to tell me what happened out  
in that garden."

'There it was.' Della's mind flashed, 'the obvious question.'

As cheerfully as possible, she replied, "I took a tumble, Perry…simple as  
that. You're always joking about the non-sensible shoes I sometimes wear to  
the office and when we're out investigating crime scenes. This time my heels  
were on the losing end of a battle with a cobblestone path. I went out to meet  
you at the pergola, you weren't there…I hurried back to the house to find  
you, and I tripped…which reminds me…where were you?"

"Well, I started thinking about the last conversation I had with Adam where he  
told me he found an old bloodied knife, shotgun, and Lauralynn's engagement  
ring in a trunk in the attic of his old home so I went over there to see if I  
could find it," Perry replied quietly. He let go of Della and walked to the  
bedroom door, opened it, looked around, and then came back into the room.

"Did you find it?" She asked.

"Yes, Della. I found it exactly as Adam described. There's no doubt in my  
mind that trunk contains the murder weapons. The question is: How did it get  
there?"

"Well," Della said walking over to him, "there's any number of people  
who had access to the attic in the days after murder."

"No Della…I found one clue that Adam didn't see or didn't realize, due  
to grief, when he found the trunk." Perry's voice was barely audible.

"What's that?" Della asked just as quietly.

"The trunk was long…¦not very deep or wide, Della. It was made out of cedar with  
these old metal handles that were rusted to the point of breaking…crumbling…¦which is why Adam was able to get past the lock so easily. Due to  
the state of decomposition of the wood and the rusted, brittle metal of the lock  
and hinges, I would bet money it had been buried underground for a long time.  
There was dried dirt embedded in the wood, dirt on the inside, and some dried up  
worms inside the dirt."

"So you think whoever committed the murders buried the evidence and only  
recently dug it up and put it up in the attic?" Della asked in disbelief.

"I don't know Della…maybe. I need to interview Randall." Perry rubbed the stubble on his face.

Della stood frozen for a moment watching Perry as his mind obviously searched  
for answers. Then, she glanced down at her watch.

"Perry, I need to change my clothes and you need to get downstairs to meet  
Paul. I won't be too far behind you."

With that, Della disappeared through the bathroom door. Perry watched her and  
then headed downstairs to meet Paul …no closer to having an answer as to what  
transpired earlier between she and Diana as when he observed them from his  
vantage point in the attic of the old Rabroker farmhouse.


	8. Chapter 8

From around the corner, Diana Leigh White watched as Perry Mason headed down the  
main staircase of the White home. As soon as he was out of sight, she walked  
over to the door of his bedroom and let herself in very quietly. In her hands,  
she held some thick twine and a sharp pocket knife. From behind the closed  
bathroom door, she heard running water and the sound of Della humming a song  
from the night before. Hatred filled her like venom. She felt her face flush and  
she remembered Della's defiance…both last night and in the garden. Diana  
exited Perry's room and entered through the door of Della's bedroom.  
Della's bathroom door was also closed. Carefully, Diana cut a length of twine  
and tied it around the antique brass knob of the bathroom door. She then ran the  
twine from the door to the heavy cherry wood dresser, looped it in and out of  
the legs and finally tied it off with a knot she'd learned years ago at summer  
camp. She left Della's room, re-entered Perry's room, and repeated the  
process on the other bathroom door and dresser. With a wicked smile, she took a  
small glass container from her pocket, pulled out the stopper, and spilled half  
the contents under the space between the floor and the bottom of the door.

"Not too much now," she giggled. "Just enough to scare her and not kill  
her," Diana pouted a little…oh how she wanted to pour every last drop and take  
out the competition once and for all.

"I did warn her. She only has herself to blame. After all, I told her last  
night to get out of my way…that, if she didn't, when I became Mrs. Perry  
Mason, I would send her packing. She gave me the wrong answer. I reiterated my  
position this morning in the garden when I tossed the society column in her face  
and told her to look at it…¦look at what a handsome couple Perry and I made. It  
was such a gorgeous picture from last night's party and she just crumpled it  
up and tossed it back at me. She crumpled my beautiful picture…my absolutely  
beautiful Perry picture! She deserved that push into the water. I did not deserve to be pulled down with her. Then, she didn't even make a fuss about what happened  
when we all met up in the foyer! And she challenged me too! It will take more  
than a little tumble to take her down? We'll see about that! How am I supposed  
to lure her into the role of jealous girlfriend if she doesn't take the  
bait?"

Indignation welled up inside of her as she replayed the events from the garden  
over and over again. However, the sounds of Della coughing, the twisting and  
pulling on one bathroom doorknob then another brought her back to reality. "Oh  
you poor thing, you don't like this little concoction I made in my daddy's  
lab? You should have thought of that before you crossed me, you bitch!" Diana  
hissed at the door.

Hatefully, she poured the rest of the contents under the door…shaking the  
glass bottle to make sure every last drop was out. "That's for ruining my  
picture with Perry. If you die, you die…if you don't, then you'll  
certainly accuse me of wrongdoing…Perry will take my side and maybe, just  
maybe, that handsome man will send you packing while he stays behind to take  
care of me." She placed the stopper back on the bottle and slipped it into her  
pocket.

Delightedly, Diana listened to the sounds of Della gasping for air and the  
sound of breaking glass and crackling wood from within the bathroom walls as she  
tried to find a source of fresh air. When Diana heard the thud of Della's body  
hitting the tiled floor, she removed the ropes from the doors of both rooms and  
made a hurried exit down the back staircase.

The Conclusion Part 5

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Perry saw Paul and Raylynn enter  
through the side French doors where they exchanged a brief kiss on the cheek and  
parted ways. Perry waited until Raylynn was out of sight before proceeding  
through the library doors after Paul. Once inside, he found him perusing the  
room…checking windows and shutting doors leading to other areas of the house. He  
cleared his throat to get Paul's attention.

"Oh, hey there Perry…just making sure the coast is clear," Paul said.

Perry nodded his head and sat down on the same leather couch he'd sat on the  
night before when meeting with Adam. His eyes lingered briefly where Adam had  
been sitting during that conversation. Paul plopped down in an old leather  
chair, propped his feet up on the coffee table, and pulled out his pen and  
notebook.

"Where's Dollface?" Paul asked.

"She'll be downstairs in a minute." Leaning forward, Perry asked in a hushed  
tone, "Okay, Paul…what have we got so far? Della must've given you some  
instructions when the two of you left this morning?"

"She did…I've got two men I pulled in from a buddy's practice out in Waco  
already gathering background information on both sets of White's, one Diana  
White, Adam Rabroker, Samuel Carter Sr., Jr., and Lottie Carter as well as the hired  
help. Another is down in Austin trying to get a lead on this Dessie Reed woman  
rumored to have had an affair with Randall twenty years ago…I say good luck to  
him but he's a hell of an investigator and may find…wait a second…." Paul looked  
confused for a moment.

"What?" Perry asked.

"You said Della must've given me instructions when we left this morning." Paul  
raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

"Yes." Perry replied.

"You had little Miss Cotton Festival Queen hanging all over you when Della and I  
walked up the front steps together. How'd you know we'd left to go anywhere?"

Very seriously and more quietly, Perry answered, "Because I was in the attic  
snooping around at the old Rabroker house when I saw you pull up, meet Della,  
and the two of you sped off together."

"I see…and I don't suppose you saw what happened to her out in the garden? You  
don't for one minute believe she got tousled from a tumble in her heels? Why,  
I've seen that woman climb out of apartment windows and make her way down fire  
escapes while trying to elude Tragg…and she was in higher heels than those."

"No, I don't believe it, Paul. She's hiding something…so is Diana White. I saw  
her flee the garden area too. I'm just not clear as to what it is yet and, to  
answer your other question…no…I did not see what happened…whether it was between  
the two of them or something that happened to each woman separately. Some of  
those Oak and Pecan trees are very tall with long branches and they definitely  
obscured my view of the garden."

"Della didn't fess up to anything upstairs?" Paul sat up and leaned forward  
towards Perry.

"No…she was as cool as a cucumber," Perry said with a slight edge to his voice.  
Paul decided to change the subject back to the case at hand.

"I see…well…did you find anything useful in attic?" he asked.

Perry looked around the room for a moment and in a low, hushed tone said, "As a  
matter of fact…yes…the murder weapons from the Rabroker murders."

"You're kidding!" Paul tried to quiet his astonishment. "How do you know?"

"Did Della tell you much about my meeting with Adam?" Perry asked.

"A little…she said Adam thought Randall killed his family and was trying to  
steal the family fortune."

"The night he died, I sat in this very room with Adam. He told me he found a  
trunk in the attic of his old house and, in it, he claimed there was a shotgun  
and a kitchen knife with what appeared to be dried blood on them. He also said  
his sister's engagement ring was in the trunk."

Paul interrupted, "Wait a second…I thought Lauralynn's engagement ring was found  
in the ashes of Sam Sr.'s partially burned corpse? How did it wind up in a trunk  
with a shotgun and a knife?"

"Exactly…and not just any trunk either, Paul. This trunk had been buried in the  
ground at some point, then dug up, and moved to the attic. I need to talk to Randall. Keeping the murder weapons and burying them though seems a little farfetched but stranger things have happened before especially where grieving loved ones are concerned. His answers will determine where we look next. I secured the items and brought them back to my room. I left hid them in my bedroom armoire for safe keeping."

Paul interrupted with an astonished, "You're kidding! Wow! "

"No… I wish I were…the trunk has dried mud on it…the metal pieces, hinges, handles, and lock  
are all weathered, and there's dried mud and dead worms inside it. Now, that  
house has been closed up for twenty years. Only someone with access to it…a  
key…someone with intimate knowledge of both properties could've gotten that  
trunk into that house while going virtually undetected. I couldn't just leave it there, Paul. It might have disappeared."

"Good point," Paul stated.

"What I need from you is background information on Delmar and Lucinda White, Randall, the Carters, and the hired help. Any one of them could be a murderer."

"Got it. Perry…Della asked me to get the autopsy reports on the Rabrokers, Lauralynn, and Sam Carter Sr."

"Good girl," Perry replied with a smile.

"Well, when I was walking through the garden with Raylynn earlier, she said  
Randall keeps copies of all that paperwork along with crime scene photographs in  
his dresser drawer upstairs."

Perry let out a long, exasperated breath. "He's always blamed himself for what  
happened. In a way, I'm not surprised to hear he's kept that stuff all these  
years…kind of like an albatross around his neck. I fully expect the trunk and its contents to be part of his momentos too."

Paul continued, "Guilt is a terrible thing. It'll eat you alive if you let it.  
Raylynn told me something else interesting. She said that, for years, Mr.  
Rabroker gave Lottie money every month to help them out after she had Sam Jr.  
and that Randall continued to do this after the murders…even going as far as to  
buy Lottie a house and pay for Sam Jr.'s college education."

"That is interesting, Paul, and it could explain where the missing money went  
to…you know, the money Adam thought Randall had been stealing from him." Perry  
rubbed the stubble on his face.

"At any rate, Raylynn has agreed to let me get a look at all the papers Randall  
keeps in that dresser after he leaves for an appointment later today."

"That's good Paul…we need copies…see if Raylynn can find a way to keep him out of the house until we can make copies. I want to review it all before I talk to him and …."

Suddenly, the peaceful quiet of the house was disrupted with the distant sounds  
of shattering glass. Perry and Paul remained seated…both looking up at the  
ceiling and then out the library double doors for the source of the sound. Next,  
they could hear a woman screaming something unintelligible from outside the  
house. They rose quickly and headed towards the library doors as the crashing  
sound of the side French doors being slammed open and closed diverted their  
attention. Diana White ran by both men… panic and terror on her  
face.

"It's Della! It's Della!" she screamed as she ran up the stairs and around the  
corner towards the Lavender Room. "Something's wrong with Della!"

Both Perry and Paul jumped from their seats and ran up the stairs behind Diana. As the men rounded the top of the staircase, they ran into Diana, who had stopped dead in her tracks. The force of the collision nearly knocked her to the ground and Paul had to grab her around the waist to keep that very thing from happening. Sitting on the floor of the hallway, just outside the door to her room, was a scantily clad and coughing Della Street. Paul ran to her, dropped to his knees, and began assessing her condition as Perry quizzed Diana.

"How did you know she was in trouble, Diana?" He asked as he kneeled next to Della.

'How the hell did she get out of that locked bathroom' Diana wondered, 'I made sure she had collapsed before removing those ties…there's no way….'

"Diana! What did you see?" Perry demanded.

"I heard the bathroom window break and saw her trying to get out," Diana lied.

"Della, can you speak to me? What happened?" Paul asked urgently.

The sound of crunching glass caught Perry's attention. Someone else was in the bathroom. He jumped to his feet and ran into the lavender room. A blast exploded from inside …then another. The sound was so deafening that Diana's screams barely registered in Paul's ears. He lost his balance and lurched forward using the framing of the door to keep himself from falling onto Della. Within seconds, the door to Perry's Lavender Room bedroom swung wide open…the force of the doorknob leaving a large hole in the sheetrock behind the door. A tall, hooded figure sprinted down the long hallway.

Paul sprang into action…chasing the after the figure who seemed to disappear into thin air as he rounded the corner and approached the back staircase. As he rounded the corner, Paul tripped on something and lost his footing. He hit the ground with a hard thud but quickly sprang to his feet to continue the pursuit but it was pointless. The hooded figure was gone. Paul ran back towards Della and the Lavender Room but neither she nor Diana remained in the hallway. Sobbing from inside the room gave away their location. Paul covered the small bedroom in mere steps…entered the bathroom and sank to his knees. Sprawled across the floor…laying among broken window glass and splintered wood was the crumpled form of Perry Mason. Through her sobs, Diana was pressing a bathroom towel to his side. The bathroom air was filled with the sickening stench of chemicals, blood, sweat, and shot gun powder. From the adjoining bedroom, a weak and coughing Della Street frantically spoke with a telephone operator.

Hours later, Diana sat alone in her room. She wanted to go to the hospital…to be near Perry…but the look Della had given her when she tried to comfort him while waiting for the ambulance made her feel sick to her stomach…like when she was a child and her father scolded her harshly for some misbehavior or another. After everyone left, she'd driven herself out to the back of the property and tossed the glass vials containing the chemical mixture she'd poisoned Della with into the stock tank. She had prayed her brilliant father and the Sheriff would be unable to detect the types of chemicals that had been used after they examined Della's room and luck was on her side. After thoroughly combing over the bathroom, he had only been able to detect the chlorine she had stolen from the pool house. The 90% isopropyl alcohol as well as the bug spray from the storage shed had evaporated leaving not a trace for him to find. Just like the night before, when she jealously watched Perry and Della in the garden, she wondered what to do. She hugged herself tightly. Perry had been shot twice. He never would have been running into that room if she hadn't tried to hurt Della.

'Oh why did I let my temper get the best of me!' she scolded herself silently. 'Why did I let it put Della back into a 'damsel in distress' situation when I'm the one who is supposed to be the damsel…I need to be saved from the horribly jealous and demeaning girlfriend! I'm the one facing a murder charge for a crime I didn't commit! What about me? He could die. What will I do without Perry to defend me?'

She rubbed her temples. It was almost too much to comprehend. 'And who was the hooded man that seemed to disappear into thin air? What was he doing in Perry's and Della's room? Oh no! What if he was hiding in there or hiding upstairs? Could he have seen me trap Della in the bathroom? For that matter, was he lurking around the grounds somewhere? Did he see me dispose of the vials? I have to get ahold of myself. If I'm not careful and do anything else stupid, I could lose Perry forever. I need a new plan…ok…think….'

She closed her eyes for a few minutes and continued to rub her temples. Then, a light bulb went off in her head and she sprung to her feet…a smile illuminating her tired face…her blue eyes once again gleaning with anticipation at the thought of stepping into the role as the next Mrs. Perry Mason.

'Damsel in distress meets Florence Nightingale effect…of course…I will head to the hospital with some of Perry's things…' She laughed with glee then quickly slapped her hand over her mouth. 'That will drive Della crazy…me going into his room and packing his personal items…who cares about the crime scene tape? The man needs his pajamas and robe…some toiletries…I will pack them and take them to the hospital. Then, I will be there helping to nurse him back to health. He will see me not only as a beautiful young woman worthy of his love…someone ready to handle the status that goes along with being his wife…but also as a caring woman who can love him deeply and passionately…who will take care of him…and the more she nags him, the more the he will be drawn to me….'

The grating sound of a car moving over gravel penetrated her thoughts. She ran to the window and looked out in time to see Mr. Paul Drake hop out of his rented vehicle and enter the home. She listened to his footsteps coming up the stairs. She moved quickly to her door and peeped out just in time to see him disappear into Randall's and Raylynn's bedroom.

Back at the hospital, Della sat quietly in the emergency room waiting area. Raylynn had arrived shortly behind her. As soon as Perry was rushed to the back, she'd gone to locate a pay phone in order to try and reach Randall. Delmar and the Sheriff arrived hours later just as Paul was leaving to return to the house. Upon delivering his findings regarding the chemical analysis of the crime scene, Delmar made a hasty exit. Next, the Sheriff explained they could find no trace of the mysterious, hooded man whom Paul had chased away from the scene. All he could tell her was the weapon had been an old sawed off shotgun…possibly turn of the century in age, rusted, muddy, and had dried blood on it that was too old to have been freshly left. It appears Perry entered the room, saw the gunman, threw a small stand at him to thwart the first gunshot and then lunged after him. Many shotgun pellets were found lodged in the wall, foot stand of the bed and the broken stand. The second blast may have been the one to hit Perry based upon the blood spatter. The assailant dropped the gun down the hallway in his attempt to flee the scene and that was most likely what Paul had tripped on when he lost sight of him.

After leaving a number where he could be reached if she remembered anything else and requesting she meet with him as soon as possible to make a formal statement, he left Della alone with her thoughts. Time passed at a maddeningly slow rate as patients came and went thru the glass doors of the hospital emergency room.

'Some mixture containing chlorine…how did it get into my room? Had Adam's murderer been responsible? Why couldn't I open the doors?' She replayed the events of what happened over and over again, but something was missing. What had been mixed with that chlorine that caused her to need to break out the bathroom windows for fresh air? Who was the hooded man ransacking the room when she crawled out of the bathroom? What did he want? Delmar could not find any evidence of any other chemicals in the room and no explanation as to why the doors leading to she and Perry's rooms would not open…and Perry…the memory of him lying on the floor, the smell of his blood…what if he died?' Lost in her own jumbled thoughts, tears streamed down her cheeks. As if from thin air, a handkerchief appeared in front of her. Della had not heard Raylynn approach or sit down next to her.

"Any word yet?" she asked as she also handed her a cup of coffee.

"No…" Della took a swallow then sat the cup on a magazine table. "Did you reach Randall?"

"Yes. He's very upset to hear what happened, but has been detained. He won't be home until the morning sometime."

"That actually plays in our favor, Raylynn. Paul is back at the house right now. He's retrieving the crime scene photographs and autopsy reports from Randall's dresser. Can you go back and help him? Check on some office supplies I ordered? With Randall gone over night, this gives Paul more time to review everything and make copies…." Della was interrupted by the sound of her name being called out.

"Miss Street?" An older man wearing black, horn rimmed glasses was holding a chart and scanning the emergency room waiting area.

"Yes." Della stood up and walked quickly in the direction of the physician who extended his hand and motioned for her to follow him thru a set of double doors.

"Well?" Della's heart was racing and an aching knot which had been twisting itself in her stomach for hours began to make her feel nauseous. "How bad is it, Doctor?"

The doctor shook his head and took her hands. "It's not looking good, I'm afraid. He lost a lot of blood resulting in several transfusions. I thought we'd lost him a couple of times during surgery just because of the blood loss issue. Luckily, I was able to remove all the pellets that actually hit him. I don't think much of one of the shots hit him or he reacted quickly when he saw the shooter and took cover. I removed a piece of splintered wood from him arm likely the result of falling on some furniture? Had he been any closer to the shooter though, he would not have survived the attack. Shotgun pellets scatter. If you're right up on a blast, they tend to contain themselves to one area. Don't get me wrong…the damage can still be quite catastrophic but I find it easier to save the patient when he or she is closer to the blast because, if those pellets scatter, they could be just about anywhere and everywhere on the victim. These multiple wounds are from multiple penetrations can make treatment and recovery simply too much for the human body to handle. Now, the pellets that did hit Mr. Mason lodged themselves primarily in his stomach and right arm…maybe defensive moves? Have you spoken with the Sheriff?"

Della nodded. "The Sheriff's findings so far correlate with what you're telling me including the removal of the splintered wood. Based upon what I heard as well as several witnesses, Mr. Mason likely threw a piece of wooden furniture at the shooter. The wood you removed could be from his body landing on the broken furniture after the second shot."

"I see," responded the doctor with great curiosity.

"When can I see him?" Della asked.

"He's heavily sedated. My concern now is a secondary infection."

"Secondary infection?" Della felt lightheaded and leaned back against the hospital wall to steady herself.

"Yes, you see Miss Street, there was something odd about the shot gun pellets."

"They were tainted and likely came from and old, dirty gun," she stated matter of factly.

"Yes…how did you know?" quizzed the doctor.

"The Sheriff was here earlier and said the weapon was an old sawed off shotgun…possibly turn of the century. Mr. Mason and I are investigating the murder of Adam Rabroker and brought out a private detective from California to aid in the investigation. Shortly before the shooting, Mr. Mason told the private investigator about a gun he found today in the attic at another old crime scene on the property. He said it was hidden in his dresser. Mr. Mason stated it had what looked like old blood, rust, and mud on it. Although it hasn't been confirmed…."

Della stopped mid-sentence. 'That's it…the gunman wasn't after me…he was after the gun Paul said Perry found when he was in the attic of the Rabroker farmhouse…and it was a "he" of that I'm sure,' she was lost in thought as bits and pieces started to fall into place. "And his hands were olive…" she spoke aloud as she moved away from the wall and turned her back to the physician. "The shooter was definitely white but of a darker skin tone and the nails…manicured."

"Excuse me, Miss Street," the doctor said in a confused tone.

Della whirled around, "I'm sorry. When can I see Mr. Mason?"

"Not for a while, I'm afraid...maybe a little later this evening."

Della stood motionless as her mind teetered between replaying the events that had taken place since Diana stumbled to Perry's door with news of Adam's death and trying to absorb the doctor's answer that Perry's condition was not stable.

"Thank you, Doctor. If he awakes, please have the staff tell him Miss Street will be back later this evening." She gave the physician a soft smile which hid the anxiousness boiling below the surface. When he smiled back and gave an affirmative nod, she turned quickly and rushed back towards the emergency room so she could call a cab and get back to Paul…a flood of broken regrets screaming loudly at her…making it almost impossible to ask to use the phone at the nurse's station. She should have told Perry everything when she had the chance…what happened in their room after he left to find Adam's body… the leveled threat Diana made against her and how she insinuated maybe Adam wasn't dead when she found him. She should have told both he and Paul what happened in the garden with Diana. One thing was now for sure. She would not allow Diana's attempts to capture Perry's attention to muddle this case or misdirect their investigation. Perry needed her now more than ever. While she was reasonably sure Diana was not Adam's killer, regardless of how wickedly she had portrayed herself the night before, the real killer was definitely in their midst. Whoever shot Perry also killed Adam and, since the man was trying to steal the shotgun from Perry's room…the shotgun Perry believed to be the weapon which killed Adam's family, Della would bet money this man was also the true murderer of the Rabroker family…not Samuel Carr.

The solution to all three cases was buried deeply in an ugly past.

The property was eerily quiet when Della arrived back from the hospital. She handed the cab driver a few bills and asked him to wait around a while. She planned to briefly talk with Paul then return to the hospital with some toiletries and clothing for Perry. It was early evening but the hot Texas sun was still beating down upon the landscape. The gust of cool air that hit her when she opened the front door and walked across the entryway was a welcome relief.

"Miss Street? Everything ok with Mr. Mason?" a voice asked from the doors to the study. Della turned to see the concerned face of the Whites' steadfast butler, Kipsey, staring back at her.

She smiled. "We don't know yet, Kipsey, but thank you so much asking…." She was interrupted by a smooth, cool voice she was growing to hate. "Oh Kipsey? There you are? Didn't you hear me ring?"

Diana Leigh White glided down the stairs…a small, leather suitcase in her beautifully manicured hand…a white gold and diamond bracelet throwing off prisms of light as it passed in front of the sunlight streaming through the windows. While she made eye contact with Della and casually looked her up and down, she made no acknowledgment of her presence as she walked past her and towards Kipsey.

"No, Miss Diana…I didn't hear you ring," Kipsey answered shyly. Della felt ashamed of how Diana looked at him with an air of superiority and turned to ascend the stairs.

"Miss Street? Could you wait just a moment? I need to speak with you, please?" Della felt her cheeks flush slightly with anger. Diana had used the same tone of disdain with her as she had with Kipsey…a tone similar to that used when she had praised Perry at dinner for bringing his "hired help" on the trip. Slowly, she turned and walked towards Diana.

"Kipsey, I need you to bring around my car and place this suitcase in the back. If anyone calls inquiring for me, please direct them to call Scott and White Memorial Hospital. Thank you."

"Yes, Miss Diana." Kipsey took the suitcase and smiled softly at Della before walking down the long hallway that led to the kitchen and back service quarters.

"The hospital?" Della inquired with concern.

"Oh yes…that's what I wanted to discuss with you," Diana cooed through a syrupy smile. "I packed some items for Perry…personal items: his robe, shaving kit…."

"You went into Mr. Mason's room without permission…went through his personal property…and packed a suitcase for him? Are you completely devoid of any common sense or tact, young lady?" Della's temper had reached the boiling point. "He doesn't want you, Diana. Hasn't he made that perfectly clear? He has been seriously injured in this shooting and needs his rest. I will not allow you to play out some sick, twisted, delusional little fairy tale in which you cast yourself as the concerned love interest. You will stay away from that hospital. Are we clear?"

Diana, blue eyes as cold as steel, stepped dangerously close to Della. "Why don't you try and stop me?" The two women stood face to face staring one another down until the tension was cut by the honking horn of Diana's car being brought around by Kipsey. With a cocked eyebrow and final sneer, she turned quickly…slamming the front door of the White home behind her.

Della exhaled slowly and looked up the staircase. Talking to Paul could not wait but she needed to keep Diana away from Perry. Kipsey opened the front door and Della heard the crunching of Diana's tires on the gravel drive. "Miss Street…do you need anything?"

"Actually …yes, Kipsey. Could you get the Sheriff on the phone for me, please?

"Yes, m'am." Kipsey walked into the long side hallway, picked up a phone and, within minutes, motioned for Della to take the receiver.

"Hello? Sheriff Tate. I'm sorry to bother you, but I was thinking … with the murder of Mr. Rabroker and the attack on Mr. Mason, would it be possible to place police protection on his room at the hospital? Oh, good…and you have a deputy already at the hospital? Could you send him to Mr. Mason's room immediately? Yes…and sir? No one in and no one out except myself, Mr. Paul Drake, and the hospital staff. Thank you, sir."

Della hung up the phone, pulled a card from her purse, and carefully dialed the number on it. "Hello, Operator? Third floor nurse's station please…yes, I'll hold." Diana's words echoed and Della felt the chill from her icy glare again. "Yes, this is Miss Della Street. I'm calling on a matter regarding Mr. Perry Mason. I just spoke with the Sheriff's Department and, since Mr. Mason is the victim of an attempted murder, he will now have around the clock police protection. I am going a step further. If any issues should arise that would cause a commotion, please post a "No Visitors" sign on his door and on his chart…only myself and Mr. Paul Drake should be allowed access to him. I also do not want any information regarding his condition released to anyone except myself. Yes…thank you for your cooperation. Goodbye."

'Well, Diana…let's see you get around that,' Della thought tiredly as she walked down the hall then up the staircase. She needed to talk with Paul…get any files he had ready for review…and return to the hospital to keep a watchful eye on Perry.

As she ascended the stairs, a figure stepped from the shadows, took the hall phone off the hook, and quietly slipped down the hallway and out a backdoor.


	9. Chapter 9

Several hours later, Della Street returned to Scott and White Memorial Hospital. In her hands, she carried a large box of files …personal, detailed information on Randall, Raylynn, Adam, Delmar, Lucinda, Diana as well as the hired help at the home, farm, and employees of Randall's law office…Sam Carter, his mother, Lottie… anyone who could have any kind of motive to kill Adam or be involved in a plot to kill him. Paul had several men working on the guest list from the party…confirming departure times, how much contact, if any, they had with Adam the night he died. Della also had copies of all the autopsy reports from the previous murders of Lauralynn and her family. As she exited the elevator and turned the corner towards Perry's room, she noticed several nurses stop their activities to look at her then whisper hurriedly to one another before diverting their eyes from her glance. No guard stood watch outside Perry's room. An older, matronly nurse shooshed them away and walked swiftly towards Della.

"Excuse me, I'm Della Street…Mr. Perry Mason's confidential secretary. He's a patient here and is supposed to have police protection. Where is the Sheriff's Deputy?"

"I'm so sorry, Miss Street. We tried calling several times, but the line was busy. We had quite a problem a little earlier with a visitor for Mr. Mason and we had to move him to another room while she was escorted from the premises."

"I see," Della answered while trying to feign surprise. "Who was the visitor?"

"She claimed to be his betrothed, but I recognized her from her pictures in the society page and knew she wasn't engaged. I had also read over the notes in Mr. Mason's file and knew he was to have no visitors."

"You say she was escorted from the premises?" Della inquired.

"Ohhhh yes …she was arrested," the nurse stated.

"Arrested?" There was no feigning of surprise this time. "Whatever for?"

"I assume disorderly conduct and assaulting an officer. She yelled at that poor Sheriff's Deputy then threw a small suitcase to the ground. It landed on his feet causing quite a bit of pain. While they were arguing and he was escorting her down the hallway, she slapped at him so he cuffed her. Not long after he got her on the elevator, I saw what looked like the figure of a man exit Mr. Mason's room. He ran away and down a back staircase before I could catch up with him. Given the circumstances, I had Mr. Mason's room changed."

"Yes…and thank you for doing so," Della said quietly as her mind tried to conjure up a picture of the man she saw shortly before and after Perry's shooting.

"Only when checking Mr. Mason's vitals, did I find something rather curious placed in his hands. Perhaps it is yours?" The nurse reached into her pocket and pulled out a large cut, antique diamond engagement ring… Lauralynn's engagement ring? Della sat the file box on the floor and took the ring from the nurse. "Like I said earlier, we did try to call you several times at the number you left, but the line was busy."

"Thank you very much for your help," Della replied as she turned the ring over and over in the hands. As the nurse nodded and walked away, a cold chill ran down her spine as she realized the killer was taunting them.

Several hours later, a sullen and disheveled Diana Leigh White stormed through the front doors of Randall and Raylynn's home followed by her father, Delmar.

"I have never been so embarrassed, Diana. What the hell were you thinking? Get whatever remaining possessions you have from upstairs now. I am taking you home immediately." Delmar's voice was low…menacing.

"I am not a child!" Diana shouted. "And I am not coming home with you." She squared off to face her father …hands firmly on hips…teeth clenched.

"You have been acting like nothing but a spoiled child, young lady. First, that altercation with Adam in the middle of the street…ohhh yes…I heard all about it. Then, throwing yourself at Mr. Mason…then another fight with Adam at the party which I got the displeasure of personally overhearing while walking around the house to escape the loud music. Now…causing a scene at the hospital…embarrassing yourself, me, and your mother. Never, EVER did I think I would get a call someday to pick you up from a police station. So, you are getting your things and you are coming home with me or I will carry you, kicking and screaming, from this house!" He took a few steps so that he was in her face. Grabbing her arm, he shoved her towards the stairs. "So get moving, little missy, or you will find your credit lines gone and that nice little car of yours with a "for sale" sign in the window."

"What is all this shouting about?" Raylynn entered the foyer at a fast pace followed by Kipsey. With a gut wrenching sob, Diana barreled up the staircase as Raylynn's and Kipsey's gaze followed her. "Well?" she asked, returning her eyes to Delmar. "And why is the phone off the hook for heaven's sake? Kipsey?" Raylynn p

pointed at the phone in the side hallway. Kipsey gingerly walked over to it and returned it to its rightful place then shuffled back towards her.

"Delmar?" Raylynn continued.

"Raylynn…this doesn't concern you." He turned his back and walked into the study. He grabbed a diamond cut carafe and filled a glass with bourbon.

"A murder has occurred in my home. A dear old friend of Randall's is in the hospital suffering from a gunshot wound and his lovely companion was attacked while in one of my bathrooms. Now, you and Diana have obviously had quite a row. So, yes, dear brother-in-law, this most certainly concerns me." Raylynn watched as Delmar shook his head then gulped down the bourbon in one hard swallow.

Back at the hospital, Perry was still heavily sedated and soundly sleeping…oblivious to the room change, Diana's visit, or that of the murderer who so daringly left Lauralynn's engagement ring in his hands. Della had been pouring over Paul's files for several hours. Intermittently, she would take a break to pull the diamond engagement ring from her pocket…and turn it over and over in her hands as if she expected it to reveal the answers to all the mysteries of the past twenty years. "How did you survive in Sam Carter Sr.'s stomach and manage to fall to the ground in his ashes? It just doesn't make sense," she murmured. 'What am I missing?' she thought. One glance at Perry and she knew…she was missing him… their teamwork… even when she didn't know she was helping him figure things out… then, he'd have this grand epiphany and call her his good luck charm…case solved…happy, grateful client and a cozy dinner, maybe dancing afterwards, but not this time. She sighed and stretched back in her chair…feeling the small pops in her back as she did so. Again, she looked at the ring…this time focusing on the delicate gold band and what looked like an engraving? Some token of love between Randall and Lauralynn no doubt. Della sat her files on the floor and headed to the nurse's station.

"Excuse me," she asked politely, "do you happen to have a magnifying glass?"

"Actually, yes I do," replied an older nurse with a smile and a wink. "My eyes aren't what they used to be and these doctors don't always make reading their orders the simplest task."

Della laughed, "Thank you. I know a certain lawyer whose notes aren't much easier to read. I've gotten to be an expert over the years. Maybe I should have gotten one of these instead."

Holding the ring up to the light, Della squinted as she read the tiny inscription through the magnifying glass. Sharply, she inhaled and blinked, not believing what she thought she'd seen and then quickly looked at the inscription again. Almost dropping the magnifying glass, she quickly recovered and handed it back to the puzzled nurse. She made her way back to Perry's room. Grabbing her notes and a few folders from the box, she quietly slipped back out and hurried back to the nurse's station. "May I use the phone please? It's an emergency."

"Of course," replied the older nurse.

"Operator, I would like to make a long distance call…Los Angeles, California. Yes…Mr. Hamilton Burger. Thank you."

Sliding the ring onto her index finger, Della stood impatiently as, ring after ring, she waited for the district attorney to answer his phone. Only after speaking with him, would she be ready to return to the White home and catch a killer.

Still sulking, Diana entered the study. Tossing her belongings on a chair, she ignored Raylynn and walked directly towards her father. "I can't believe you're treating me like this. Wait til I tell Mother."

Delmar slammed the empty glass of bourbon onto the liquor cabinet. "I've already discussed this with your mother and, for once, she's in complete agreement with me. Pick up your things NOW!"

Without breaking eye contact with her father, Diana walked backwards with cat-like grace towards the arm chair. Item by item, she slowly, methodically picked up her possessions. Raylynn remained silent…watching them both…waiting for one or the other to break the icy silence, but neither did. Suddenly, the house phone crackled out a long ring…then another and another until the soft voice of Kipsey was heard from the foyer hallway.

"White Residence...may I help you? Yes, Miss Street, please hold for a moment."

All eyes turned towards the faint knock on the study door.

"Yes, Kipsey?" Raylynn asked calmly.

"Miss Della Street, M'am. She's asking to speak with you. Should I take a message?" Kipsey could feel Diana's steely glare burning into his skin.

"No, Kipsey…I will take the call. Tell her just one moment." Kipsey nodded and hastily exited the room.

"Neither of you leave just yet, Delmar," Raylynn commanded, "Not until you answer my questions." Raylynn walked out of the room and both Delmar and Diana could hear the tension in her voice when she picked up the line, "Della…is everything okay? Any change with Perry?"

'Perry.' The sound of his name was the only thing strong enough to break Diana's eyes from those of her father. She released a muffled cry and took a few steps in the direction of the den door when she was distracted by the sound of crunching gravel on the front drive and the ringing of the door bell.

"Yes…yes, Della. I understand perfectly. Wait a second…I think I hear him now. Yes…we will wait. No…I will help Paul make sure no one leaves." As she said those words, Raylynn, heard the door bell ring and turned just in time to see Kipsey usher in Paul Drake. He was accompanied by Samuel Carter and his mother, Lottie. Paul's and Raylynn's eyes locked instantly.

"So, you should be here within the hour? Fine…yes…wait, Randall is still out of town. Oh…Paul's man is bringing him back? My goodness…well, we will see you soon, Dear." With that, Raylynn hung up the phone all the while maintaining eye contact with Paul. He walked over to her.

"That was Della?" he asked.

"Yes…Paul? What is going on? Why are Sam and Lottie here? Della said Randall's on his way back from Austin. He's going to flip when he sees Sam and Lottie?" Raylynn crossed her arms and searched Paul's eyes looking for an answer.

Letting out a measured sigh, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "She thinks she knows who the murderer is …of both Adam and Lauralynn."

"No!" Raylynn's shock could not be contained as she stared wide eyed at Paul. Slowly, he nodded. "Come on, Doll. Let's get a drink."

Turning, he smiled affably at Sam Jr., and Lottie, "Shall we?" he asked, motioning with his arm towards the study.

Della was a bundle of nerves as she pulled up in front of the White Home. 'I can do this. I've seen Perry do this hundreds of times,' she silently repeated in an effort to keep panic from overtaking her. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she saw the Sheriff parking his cruiser. She picked up her notepad and re-read her notes a couple of times. 'It's all about the order of the questions. I can do this.' The Sherriff tapped on her window. She smiled and nodded. As if on cue, lights reflected off her rearview mirror signaling the arrival of Paul's field man and Randall. "Showtime," Della muttered as she exited the car and waited with the Sheriff for Randall to make his way to her.

"Della…how's Perry? What the hell's going on here?" Randall was flushed and somewhat breathless as he rushed towards her and enveloped her in a hug. They began walking towards the front porch.

"He's better than initially expected. Listen, Randall…have you ever seen this before?" Della held up her finger. Randall gasped and pulled it off.

"Where did you get this, Della?" Tears welled in his eyes. "Is this a cruel joke?"

"Is this Lauralynn's engagement ring? The one reportedly found in Sam Sr.'s ashes?"

Randall shook his head. "It looks exactly like the ring I gave her, Della, but here's the thing: I buried it with her. No one saw me. I was alone with her in the parlor room late the evening before the funeral and I slipped it inside the lining of the dress. I never told anyone."

"Any engravings on her ring?" Della asked.

"None," Randall replied.

"Any chance someone snuck in and took the ring from her when you weren't looking?" Della asked sympathetically.

"I don't think so. I mean…how would someone know where to look?" Della took the ring from him… lovingly clasped his hand and said, "Let's go inside." Silently, the Sherriff and Paul's operative followed them.


	10. Chapter 10

"What is the meaning of all of this?" Diana demanded as soon as Della walked into the study of the White home.

"Sit down and be quiet," her father growled. Paling, Diana cast a cold glare at Della and sat down on the couch next to him and her mother, Lucinda.

Randall walked across the room and hugged Raylynn. Then, they both took positions on the couch in front of Delmar, Lucinda, and Diana. Not too far away, Sam Jr. stood quietly behind a high back chair where his mother, Lottie, rested…a weary expression upon her face. The White's hired help, including Kipsey, lined the side wall not too far from where Paul Drake, his operative and the Sheriff stood blocking the doors of the room. Della cleared her throat and everyone's attention fixated on her.

"As you know, Mr. Mason is very close friends with Randall. We travelled here from California in order to support his decision to run for Attorney General of Texas, but circumstances have taken all of us in a different direction. Mr. Mason is unable to be here tonight due to the extent of his injuries, but, prior to those injuries and Adam's death, he was asked by Adam to look into the deaths of his sister and parents as well as issues involving their estate. Furthermore, Miss White has retained the services of Mr. Mason should she be charged with Adam's murder. If you all will indulge me, I have a series of questions I would like to ask most of you. After all, the murderer is among us."

Looks of wide eyed disbelief gazed back at Della. She nodded at Paul and he moved towards the back of the room so as to guard the double French doors leading outside.

"Let's get started," Della stated…walking towards Lottie Carter. "Mrs. Carter…how many years were you married to your husband, Samuel Carter,Sr. at the time of his death?"

"Almost six years, Miss Street." Lottie replied.

"So, you became pregnant with your son, Sam Jr., shortly before or after the marriage?"

Lottie smirked. "I'm sure you've already done the math, Miss Street. My husband and I had been married ten months when our son was born. Of course, all the records were destroyed in the court house disaster years back."

"I have done the math," Della confirmed. " And, according to a notation made in the church log of East Highway Baptist Church," Della handed Lottie a copy of a page from the church log, "You and Sam Sr. actually married much later than you led everyone to believe. You were actually about three months along when you married your husband."

"Yes." Lottie pursed her lips together.

"How long had you two courted?" Della inquired.

"Not very long." Lottie's answer was hushed.

"Mrs. Carter…is it true you and Sam Carter Sr. had only known one another for six weeks at the time of your marriage? That he married you knowing you were already with child? That he agreed to raise this child as his own?"

Lottie took a deep breath and looked up at her son. "Yes, Miss Street."

"Momma?" Sam Carter Jr., asked in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, Sam." Lottie dabbed tears from her eyes then looked back at Della.

"At the time of your marriage, did you tell Mr. Carter who the father of your child was?"

"No, I did not."

"At any point, after the marriage, did Mr. Carter find out who the father of your child was?"

"Yes," Lottie said in a whisper.

"When was that?" Della was walking the delicate line between being sympathetic to Mrs. Carr but demanding enough to extract the truth.

"I had a terrible labor. I couldn't deliver the baby. The doctor ended up cutting me open. I lost a lot of blood and nearly died. I was laid up at home for many months, unable to work…unable to hardly care for the baby. It was a hard time."

"You couldn't work so you weren't getting paid from your job at the Rabrokers?"

"Of course not, " Lottie replied.

"How did you and your husband get by without starving? Who paid your bills? Helped with the baby?"

Lottie looked up at Della. "Mr. Rabroker paid my hospital bill and gave me money to help with living expenses. Mrs. Rabroker used to come down and help with the baby and sometimes sent Lauralynn down to help even though she was just this sweet little girl."

"Why would they help you like that?" Della asked.

Lottie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. They was just real sweet people, Miss Street. My Sam didn't kill them."

"So your Sam wasn't angry when you told him Mr. Rabroker was the father of your baby?"

"What?!" Randall yelled out at Della. "That is a lie!"

"Calm down, Randall," Raylynn grabbed her husband's arm and pulled him back down to the couch.

"I will not calm down. That is a bold faced lie!" Randall yelled again.

Della turned to Randall. "On the night Adam died, he met with Perry. He discovered a sizeable portion of his inheritance was missing but there wasn't a sale on the records to show where any of the property went or where any cash monies may have gone. He asked Perry to look into whether you killed his family in order to gain complete control over their fortune. Did you or did you not have a fight with Adam in which he accused you of these deeds?"

"Yes…yes…yes…" Randall sneered. "He accused me of the murders and of stealing from him…none of which I did…I loved Lauralynn. I never, ever would have done anything to hurt her or her family."

"Yet, after the deaths of the Rabroker family, you continued monetary payments to Mrs. Carter even going as far as to put Sam Jr., through college." Della stated. "I have the records to show some of the missing money and property that Adam complained about had actually been used to help financially support Mrs. Carter and her son. Why? Why continue such a gesture? What are you not telling us, Randall?"

"He's not telling you that Mr. Rabroker is the biological father of Sam Jr.?" Delmar interrupted. All eyes turned his way as Lottie broke down into tears. "The question is: how did you figure it out, Miss Street?"

"I obtained copies of all the autopsy reports and medical records for the Rabroker family and Sam Sr., as well as background information and medical records on the Carter family. I read a book not long ago about crime scene investigations including a chapter on blood evidence. It wasn't hard to take everyone's blood types and determine there was no way Sam Sr. could be Sam Jr.'s father. Mr. Carter was blood type A. Mrs. Carter is also an A blood type. Sam Jr. is an AB blood type which means his father must have had a B somewhere. Given that Mrs. Carter was already pregnant when she married Mr. Carter and given the financial support Mr. Rabroker gave the family, which your brother continued after their deaths, I made an educated guess. Mr. Rabroker had the AB blood type."

"I made most of the same educated guesses when I was reading over the autopsy reports." Delmar stated.

"And you shared your findings with Randall?" Della asked.

Delmar glanced at Randall and let out a measured breath. "Yes, I shared my suspicions with my brother."

Della glanced at Randall with a raised eyebrow then directed her focus back to Lottie. "Mrs. Carter…your husband found out your employer, Mr. Rabroker, was the father of your child when he started questioning you about all the monies Mr. Rabroker was giving you while you were unable to work. Yes?"

"Yes," Lottie answered flatly.

"Was he angry when he found out you had conceived a child with Mr. Rabroker who was not only your employer but his too?" Della asked.

"Yes, " Lottie answered flatly again.

"Angry enough to kill him?" Della asked softly.

"Oh Lordy no…no…no, Miss Street. My Sam was no killer. He was angry because he felt Mr. Rabroker had taken advantage of me, you know, with me being so young and needing a job when jobs were so hard to come by. That's all"

"And the fight that day at the house? The fight the day of the murders? What about then? Was he angry enough to kill then?" Della kneeled in front of Lottie and took her hand.

"He was angry because they were arguing over the amount of rent Lucas…I mean…Mr. Rabroker was charging him on the land he was sharecropping and Mr. Rabroker threw it in his face about him not really being Sam's father and that he had given me so much money over the years that it wouldn't kill him to pay a little extra on rents in return. Then, when they stormed outside, Lucas pointed that gun at me and Sam was just trying to defend us…defend his family, but he loved Miss Lauralynn and Mr. Adam just like me. And Mrs. Rabroker was the sweetest little thing. He never would have killed them. He was angry and got drunk…decided to go back that night and try to talk some sense to Mr. Rabroker, but he collided with someone and it scared him and he took off running and hid until the mob found him. He was a bloody mess when they tied him to that truck, Miss Street. He was incoherent…sobbing…mumbling about some woman, disguised as a man, covered in blood running away from the house and they collided and she slapped and kicked him before running into the fields. Of course, no such woman ever existed that could be found."

Della stood and walked over to Delmar. "You mentioned in the autopsy reports that type O blood was found on the body of Lauralynn. No one in the house had that blood type. Mrs. Rabroker was type A."

"Yes," Delmar replied.

Randall looked at him in disbelief. "You never told me that?"

"You already blamed yourself for Sam's lynching and execution. I couldn't bring myself to confirm for you that your telling of what Adam saw that night led to the possible death of an innocent man. Since I had no explanation for the ring being in his ashes despite what the blood evidence showed, I just let it go."

"Sheriff, here are copies of the autopsy reports. I've circled the blood types of each of the deceased. I've also included a chart showing a blood type calculator which proves that Mr. Rabroker is the biological father of Sam Carter, Jr. and that neither Sam Carter Sr., nor anyone in the Rabroker family could have left type O blood at the scene of the crime or on a victim's body. Mr. Drake's detectives secured financial statements and bank statements dating back almost 15 years which shows she received large sums of cash well outside her means. This, plus Randall White's admission that he continued monetary support to Mrs. Carter after the death of the Rabrokers, shows he did not embezzle funds from Adam's inheritance."

Della returned her attention to Delmar White. "Delmar…who was Dessie Reed?"

"A young woman Randall met while in college down in Austin. She claimed they had a brief relationship. This is why he and Lauralynn had such a huge fight the day of the murders," Delmar stated flatly.

"That's a lie!" Randall shouted.

"How do you know that?" Della asked.

"I told him all about Lauralynn's accusations." Randall interrupted before Delmar could speak. "I was extremely upset the day of the fight. Lauralynn was so angry. You know she actually threw her engagement ring at me? I kept telling her I had never heard of any woman named Dessie Reed, but she wouldn't believe me…said the woman had called her …said I had tried to hush everything up with money when I dumped her so she decided to call Lauralynn and tell her everything."

"She threw 'this' ring at you?" Della withdrew a ring from her pocket. The same ring Perry had found in the attic of the old Rabroker house under Adam's direction. The same ring stolen from his room by the shooter that landed him in the hospital…and was subsequently left there with him as some kind of warning perhaps?

"Oh Lord have mercy!" Lottie cried out. "That's Miss Lauralynn's ring. It still has Samuel's blood all over it!" Lottie began fanning herself with her fingers as her son looked away."

"No, Della. As I told you a little while ago, that is not Lauralynn's engagement ring." Randall stated matter of factly.

"Of course it is, Randall!" Delmar exclaimed. "I was with you when you designed it at Lastovica's Jewelry Store. Lottie even remembers it! One does not easily forget a two carat emerald shaped diamond ring."

Randall shook his head adamantly. "No…no…no…you're wrong. I buried Lauralynn's ring with her. I slipped it into the casket shortly before her burial. That is not her ring. It has to be some kind of look alike."

"Delmar? Will you please identify this newspaper clipping?" Della reached into an envelope and pulled out a copy of an old photograph from the society pages of the Austin-American Statesmen.

Delmar's face lost all its color as his wife, Lucinda, exclaimed, "Why Delmar! That's you!"

"Please read the caption, Sir?" Della's eyes locked upon his. Clearing his throat, Delmar said, "Rush Chairwoman, Dessie Reed, smiles brightly as she and her beau welcome new pledges to the end of Greek Week festivities."

"Let me see that!" Randall demanded as he snatched the newspaper copy from his brother.

"So it was you, Delmar, not Randall who dated Dessie Reed in Austin?" Della folded her arms and waited.

Letting out a measured sigh, Delmar shook his head affirmatively.

"You son of a …you…you…are you telling me you had a relationship with this woman and used my name?! Then you didn't fess up when she called Lauralynn? You let me suffer all these years knowing she died thinking I had been unfaithful to her…knowing it was a lie…and you said nothing?! You heartless bastard! How could you? You call yourself my brother?!" Randall lunged forward…hands wrapping around Delmar's neck. The Sheriff sprang into action…grabbing Randall and tearing him backwards…the struggle knocking over an end table…the glass lamp shattering as it hit the floor.

"Delmar," Lucinda said through a muffled sob, "how could you? We were already engaged and I …I was…."

"Already pregnant with Diana…yes, I know." Delmar stated…not a shred of emotion to his voice.

"Why did she commit suicide several days after the murders of Lauralynn and her family?" Della asked Delmar.

"I don't know," he stated. He sat clenching his hands into fists…staring at the floor. "I loved her, Miss Street. It started out as just a fling and I used Randall as a cover, but I grew to love her. She was so free spirited and fun. Before I could tell her the truth…explain things…Lucinda turned up pregnant and I had to do the right thing so I ended my relationship with Dessie and have regretted it ever since. I've always assumed she committed suicide because I told her I was going to proceed with marrying Lucinda…only I used Lauralynn's name…and she just couldn't handle the break up."

"And this ring? Look carefully at the engraving inside the ring." Della asked. Delmar looked inside and read, "RWW + DIR 4Ever."

"Did you have that ring engraved as Randall Wayne White?" Della asked softly.

"No," he answered quietly. "She must have had our initials added after the fact."

"But you did give her this ring…yes?" Della prodded.

Delmar nodded. "I liked the ring Randall had made for Lauralynn so much that I asked, later, for another one to be made just like it. I gave it to Dessie with the promise we would be married soon."

Delmar turned his expression towards Lucinda, who was weeping quietly next to him. "I'm sorry, Lucinda, but I was in love with her, not you. Because I've always felt our marriage and your pregnancy caused her death, I never wanted anymore children with you."

Diana sat motionless while watching her parents…all the color drained from her face.

"Kipsey?" Della turned her attention to the White's faithful butler. "Why did Dessie Reed really commit suicide?"

"I don't know, m'am," Kipsey replied as all eyes turned his direction.

"Don't you?" Della asked, pulling several paper items from the manila envelope that had previously contained the news clippings from Austin, the autopsy reports, and the bloodwork charts.

"No m'am…that was long before I ever moved to town." Kipsey said.

"I see," Della responded. "Then, let me read you this: Deserella Inez Reed, 21, of Austin, Texas, formerly of Wimberly, Texas, and daughter of Jefferson James and Katherine Anne Reed was found deceased in her bedroom at the Alpha Chi Omega house, the apparent victim of a suicide. Services are pending with Macon Funeral Home in Wimberly."

"Now," Della continued, "I show you a copy of a birth certificate. Is this a copy of your certified Texas birth certificate, Sir?"

Kipsey took the copy of the birth certificate. "Yes."

"Will you please read the names listed as your parents?" Della asked.

"Jefferson James Reed and Katherine Anne Reed," Kipsey replied without emotion.

"Dessie Reed was your sister." Della stated.

"Yes …yes she was, Miss Street," Kipsey replied.

"Kipsey!" Randall shouted. "What the devil!? You've been with us for fifteen years!"

"We trusted you, Kipsey." Raylynn added.

"Why isn't your last name 'Reed' also instead of "James" as you have listed on your payroll stubs?"

"Because I changed it when I turned eighteen, Miss Street."

"Any particular reason?" Della inquired.

"So that I could get a job here with the Whites without drawing suspicion on myself," Kipsey said quietly.

"Why would you want to do that?" Della knew she was almost to the truth.

Kipsey stared intently back at Della for a moment then walked towards the fireplace. Stopping, he gazed out the large window next to the old, grey brick structure and stood quietly. Every eye in the room watched as his eyes first misted then a low, muffled cry emanated deeply from his chest. "I guess we've almost come full circle now, Dessie girl, haven't we?" he muttered. Without warning, he withdrew an old shotgun from behind the long drapes of the window and whirled around with it cocked into position…ready to blast anyone who so much as moved in the room.

The room filled with gasps and exclamations of surprise and fear as people tried to move away from Kipsey. Paul stepped protectively in front of Della. The Sheriff and Paul's detective both pulled their weapons and steadied their aim at Kipsey.

"Kipsey?" Della asked evenly as she stepped from behind Paul. "What do you mean things have come full circle?"

"She wrote me a letter, Miss Street… a letter from college telling me all about this man she was seeing…how he'd proposed and they were keeping their engagement a secret…something about a special ceremony she'd get to have at her sorority that showed she was engaged so she was keeping her ring hidden in her jewelry box. She sent me several copies of newspaper clippings from the society pages like the one you have there. I was happy that she was happy…you know? She was my big sister."

"Did she write a suicide letter, Kipsey?" Della asked softly.

"Yes, m'am. Yes, she did…I received it about a week after her death. In it …in it she…ummm…well she explained how she … how her intended had left her for another woman and broken the engagement…how she called the woman on the phone to spill the story…how he had refused to leave this other woman even after she thought she had ruined things between them. So…she drove down here from Austin late one night…broke into this woman's home and, in a fit of jealous rage, killed the family. She described shooting the girl's parents so they wouldn't get in the way when she had it out with her."

"Oh my God," Randall exclaimed, "Are you telling us your sister confessed to killing Lauralynn thinking it was really Lucinda? All because Delmar had lied and used our names as a cover for the relationship?" Randall looked at Delmar. "You …you…you're the reason she died. Your lies killed her. She didn't have to die. All you had to do was tell the truth and not be a creepy snake in the grass for the first time in your life and you didn't."

"Daddy didn't kill them," Sam Jr. hugged his mother as she wept.

"No, Mr. Carter. Your father didn't kill anyone. He interrupted the murders. Dessie wrote in her suicide letter that she had disguised herself as a man before coming to the home." Kipsey kept the gun poised and ready to fire.

"Kipsey…what about Dessie's ring? How did it get into the ashes of Sam's body?" Della asked.

"Dessie wrote that, when she entered the Rabroker house that night looking for extra weapons, she saw a photograph of Lauralynn in the study. She was enraged to see that both she and Lauralynn had the same engagement ring and that made her want to kill her all the more. You see, it was her plan to kill everyone then commit suicide at the house when it was over, but Mr. Carter interrupted her. He was drunk and had started yelling Mr. Rabroker's name into the darkness as he walked up the front of the property. Dessie wrote that she became scared and ran out the front door…that she ran right into Mr. Carter who looked surprised to see a female dressed as a male and she ran off into the darkness to where her car was hidden."

"Then what happened?" Della continued.

"She got herself cleaned up then caught wind of some gossip that the angry mob was about to lynch the man who killed the Rabrokers…she watched as he was strung up and set a fire. While the mob shouted and the crowd threw things at the burning body, she took off her engagement ring and hurled it into the fire."

"Randall? You didn't know the ring you found in the ashes wasn't Lauralynn's ring?" Della asked.

"No. I returned the ring to my house and left it in my dresser." Randall explained.

"Kipsey…if Randall buried the real engagement ring with Lauralynn, how did Dessie get this ring back from him since he found the copy in the ashes?" Della looked puzzled.

" Miss Street…she was so guilt ridden. She committed suicide when she read the newspapers and realized she had killed an innocent family. She wrote in her suicide letter that watching the real Randall cry and carry on in front of the burning body of Mr. Carter had confused her, but it was the newspaper reports that sent her over the edge. She realized her "Randall" was actually Delmar pretending to be Randall White and that he had been lying to her all along…that he was still going to marry his other fiancé named Lucinda, whom she knew by the name "Lauralynn" and she couldn't handle the guilt of having killed the wrong people. She hid in the funeral parlor and watched as the grief stricken paid their respects to Lauralynn. She saw Randall place her ring in the coffin and couldn't bear the thought of the wrong ring being buried so she broke into the Rabroker house, stole the real ring from Lauralynn's room, and then switched the rings out when she was again alone with her in the parlor."

"Kipsey," Randall walked slowly towards him. "I simply don't understand what you hoped to gain. Why did you come to work for us?"

Kipsey leveled his gun directly at Randall. "Hate and revenge, Mr. Randall. .Hate for all of you people and your roles in ruining so many lives. Hate at your father, who I grew to know as a philandering, lying, cheat during the first years I worked for you and hate that he passed those traits to your brother over there." Kipsey tipped the gun towards Delmar.

"Hate at your dysfunctional relationship with Delmar that led him to assume your identity and drag my sweet sister into a love affair filled with lies and deceit… lies which broke her heart and turned her into a crazy, murdering, suicidal monster."

Della cleared her throat. "That's not all of it though, is it, Kipsey?"

"What do you mean, Miss Street?"

Della pulled another document from the envelope and passed it quietly to Randall. "Eleanor Myra Reed?"

Randall handed the document, a copy of another birth certificate, to his wife, Raylynn.

"Eleanor Myra Reed? It couldn't possibly be…Myra? Your confidential secretary, Myra?"

"Kipsey, it isn't just you who wanted revenge for your sister's death, is it?" Della stated.

"No…my older sister, Myra, was also outraged and deeply saddened by Dessie's death. They were so close and, well…we sorta hatched a plan. She came to town first and secured a job working for old man White. Then, I came to town a few years later and we acted like strangers. Her husband was dead and, with her using her married name, no one was the wiser."

Della pulled out another set of papers from her envelope and handed them to Randall and Raylynn. "How is it Kipsey that you have amassed some $65, 000.00 in cash in an account held by First National Bank of Central Texas?"

"My sister embezzled funds from the law firm and from Adam's estate very quietly throughout the years and passed them along to me."

"And Adam started asking questions and you just couldn't have that, could you?" Della asked.

"No, Miss Street. The day of the announcement party, shortly after I returned from town, Myra called me and stated Adam had once again signed Mr. Randall's name to the payroll without his knowledge. When she inquired about it, she said he remarked that it was his money anyway. I knew it was only a matter of time before she was caught."

"So, the killing of Adam was to cover up the thefts and being able to blame Diana was "icing on the cake" since she was Delmar's daughter." Della watched Kipsey intently.

"You could say that." He responded quietly.

Kipsey started walking backwards towards the double doors of the den…using the shotgun as a pointer to motion people out of his way.

" You were in town picking up supplies the day of the party. Other staff gave statements to Mr. Drake's men that you went into town after bringing Mr. White's car to him that morning. Diana and Adam had a very public fight on the street where witnesses state she hit him. Later, you received a call from Myra about Adam's statement when he signed payroll. Then, in Diana's own statements to Mr. Drake's men, we know you witnessed a fight between them the night of the party in which her dress was torn. And, that gun you're holding, it belonged to Mr. Rabroker. You're sister used it to kill Lauralynn's parents and you used it to shoot Mr. Mason the night you rummaged through his things to find it and your sister's ring…things you had previously hidden…buried on this property where no one would find them until Adam stumbled upon them in his old house and he started asking questions…questions which led Mr. Mason to take possession of them."

Kipsey smiled, "You're a smart woman, Miss Street. It's all true. I witnessed Adam's and Diana's fight in town. It gave me the perfect opportunity to finally get revenge, you see? Their fights were becoming legendary. I killed him in the garden then planned to testify under oath that I had heard Diana threaten to kill him at the party, which is the truth, then I was going to plant evidence on her person to prove she was with Adam when he died."

"But I wasn't with him!" Diana exclaimed, "I only stumbled across his body."

Della raised her eyebrow at the young woman. "Ohhhh…I know I made it sound likewise when we were alone that night, Miss Street, but it was a lie. I really had nothing to do with his death.I wouldn't hurt a fly."

Della let out a sigh and turned back towards Kipsey. "What were you going to plant that made it look like Diana had killed him?"

"The autopsy report will eventually show that Adam died from a small caliber gunshot wound to the back of his head. I stole a gun belonging to Mr. Delmar and used it to kill Adam. I was going to plant it in Miss Diana's handbag as soon as I retrieved the items Mr. Mason had taken from the Rabroker house."

"What stopped you?" Della already knew the answer.

"I had to untie the door knobs of your bathroom and help you out before you died, Miss Street. I couldn't let anything happen to you. You're not any part of this sick, twisted web." Kipsey reached into his pockets, pulled out some rope like materials, and tossed them in the direction of Diana…a sick smile upon his face.

"A fly, huh?" Paul stated with disgust as he looked at Diana and her faced turned a deep shade of crimson.

"Kipsey? I'm sorry, but how does this right what happened with your sister?" Della asked sympathetically.

"It doesn't, Miss Street. By killing Adam and framing Diana, it would hurt Delmar the rest of his life to watch his spoiled, rotten little girl waste away in prison and I? Well…I would continue to work here each day…enjoying his suffering and secretly knowing he was reaping what he sowed with my sister all the while becoming rich in the process and draining the Rabroker estate of any remaining monies it had. After all, with Adam dead and Diana in prison, Lucinda as a distant cousin is the only family left so, in a way, I was keeping her future inheritance out of Delmar's hands." A stark look of realization swept his face, "Of course, that isn't possible now, is it?"

"No…I'm afraid not, Kipsey." Della replied. "Sheriff?"

The sheriff slowly stepped towards Kipsey.

"It's your fault, Miss Street. Why couldn't you just stay out of the way…stay at the hospital with Mr. Mason? This is all your fault. My revenge can never be complete now."

He raised the gun and aimed at Della. "No more!" Delmar shouted as he lunged across the room and wrapped around Kipsey's body causing a blast to go up and hit the ceiling. Paul grabbed Della and threw her to floor using his own body as a shield against the falling pieces of ceiling. Screams from Raylynn, Diana, Lottie, and Lucinda filled the room as yet another blast erupted and several gunshots rattled the window panes. Then, all was quiet. The smell of dust and gun powder mixed with the stench of blood filled the air.

"You okay, Beautiful?" Paul asked worriedly as he pulled Della up and rubbed her arms up and down.

"I think so," she replied, "Are you? You're not hit anywhere?"

"No," he said, "I'm good."

They both looked towards the double doors. Leaning against the wall, the body of Kipsey, the mild mannered, quiet butler of Raylynn and Randall White lay dead from the Sheriff's gunfire. Next to him, Delmar White lay splayed across the floor…the victim of Kipsey's second shotgun blast…one final, honorable act of valor in which only time would tell whether the sacrifice would help to make right the wrongs he set in motion years before.

"I wish I could have been there to see it all unravel, Paul." Perry was sitting on the edge of his hospital bed while Della finished packing his things. It had been a week since he was shot and the strong lawyer had made a remarkable recovery.

"She was spectacular, Perry." Paul beemed.

"I learned from the best." Della smiled as she latched the suitcase and leaned in to kiss Perry's cheek.

"I think you're all the best," a voice said coming from the hospital room door. The trio turned to see Randall and Raylynn White smiling back at them.

"Della, you really were amazing. What gave it away? How on earth did you know it was Kipsey and his sisters?" Raylynn asked.

"It was the name 'Reed,' Raylynn. It kept resounding in my head and I knew I had seen it in all the reports from Paul and his men, but I was so tired and there was so much paperwork, it just took a while to connect. I had to ask myself who was always around, listening, almost lurking, mentioned in almost every interview conducted by Paul's men and it was Kipsey. I just had to connect the dots and find the motive." Della smiled as Perry placed his arm around her. "That's my girl," he beemed. He then stood up and walked to a waiting wheelchair that had seemed to appear from nowhere. The Whites said their goodbyes leaving Perry, Paul, and Della alone in the elevator with an orderly.

"I'm so ready to get home," Della sighed.

"Me too," Perry smiled up at her.

"Me three," Paul chimed in, "this heat is killing me. Can't you two stumble into a murder case in a coller climate the next time?"

Perry and Della laughed as the elevator doors opened and blindingly brilliant rays of sunlight poured in through the glass doors and windows of the hospital. Just as they made their way out the doors and down the sidewalk, a syrupy, familiar voice called after Perry.

"Perry! Perry!"

Perry stood up and turned to see Diana Leigh White waving wildly at him.

"I heard you were getting out today. How about lunch and then a ride to the airport?" Diana smiled up at him and looped her arm through his arm. Della's posture stiffened and, after making brief eye contact with Perry, she briskly walked down the sidewalk and climbed into the back of the open door to Paul's waiting rental car.

"See, my Darling…Della doesn't mind at all. She and Paul can go ahead of you to Los Angeles and you can take a later flight." Again, she beemed a dazzling smile at him. "Please don't hold it against me that I didn't come to see you during your stay. I was simply worried sick but that secretary of yours had it fixed where no one could get into see you. It was quite horrible of her."

"Diana," Perry said as calmly as possible, "I do not want to go to lunch with you. I do not want to take a later flight to Los Angeles. I want to get into that car," he pointed at the sedan emphatically, "with Della and go home."

"Oh Perry, be reasonable," she pleaded.

"I have been both patient and reasonable with you, young lady. You have responded with nothing more than lies, deceit, and underhanded tactics that could have killed the one person who means more to me than anyone else in this world. If Kipsey were not dead, I would personally see to it that you be charged with assault and locked up for the maximum amount of time afforded by Texas law. Personally, I hope to never lay eyes on you again."

Perry pulled away from her. "Goodbye Diana."

Perry Mason walked down the sidewalk steps and slid into the back seat of the waiting sedan…Paul Drake slamming the car door behind him and throwing a menacingly look in the direction of a tearful Diana White. Placing a comforting arm around Della Street, Perry smiled softly and whispered, "Let's go home." With that, Paul hopped in the front seat, popped the vehicle into 'drive' and the three friends departed on the long journey home.


End file.
